#also also I came in thinking fresh cut grass was going to be a later game Big Reveal but that's literally how he was introduced???? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prettyvampiress96 · 3 years ago

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Double Trouble - Fred Weasley/ George Weasley X Y/N

Fred and George left Y/N to shut up their shop with the promise that Fred would soon be back and then she'll be in for a treat. He'd asked for her to dress up nice for him and with a quick kiss both brothers left , apparating to the burrow for the weekly Weasley family dinner. Time kept ticking by , getting later and later. Just as Y/N was about to give up on waiting. Fred came bursting through the fireplace in the office.

I've been waiting for you all afternoon.' Y/N said teasingly she ran her finger down her collarbone into her the valley of her breasts. "You promised me you'd be quick Freddie and you weren't. You lied. You need make it up to me for being so late, mister".

Fred was at a loss of words as his gaze zeroed in on her lace covered pushed up breasts. "I need to make it up to you? Didn't you get my owl? I specifically stated i would be longer than expected, but by all means I'll make it up to you kitten" Fred teased stepping closer to her.

Y/N felt the hum cover her entire body. He was practically drooling at the sight . Still, he stood twenty feet away with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his well-worn Jeans.

A delicious shiver ran through her as Fred moved towards her. When he stood only a breath away, he cocked his head slightly to the right and looked over her. His eyes travelled over the length of her body , darkening with lust and want. Y/N tilted her head back to look up at him. "I'm still waiting" she said with her hands on her hips.

Boldly he reached out and pinched her nipple through the lace giving it a slight twist. 'You look sexy and horny as hell" he said observing her reaction to his words mixed with his actions. God. That tweak had shot right to her core. She couldn't take the waiting any more. "You're right about that and you're also the one responsible ." Without thinking Y/N lunged at him.

"Ooof" he said on a sharp exhale as he caught her. She'd jumped right up into his arms, wrapping her arms and legs about him . He was tall, so he had that to his advantage. Y/n shimmied up his tall frame further, revelling in the friction of his clothes against her nearly naked body, and claimed his lips with a kiss. " Apologise, slow poke and be creative about it"Y/N demanded.

His arms automatically came under her, holding her ass in his hands while baring her weight and his smirking grin widened. "Will a slow poke do?" he asked raising an eyebrow. She brushed her mouth against his again. This time he was ready. The kiss he gave her was so intimate, her toes curled in anticipation.

His musky scent blended with the smell of fresh cut grass , made her feel a little untamed. She kissed the side of his neck and found his pulse pulsating. " I was worried, you know. I thought you had gotten caught up in some elaborate scheme with George and that molly had refused to let you return "Y/N murmured against his neck. "Get real kitten . When have you known us to get to get caught ?" Fred chuckled slightly.

"Duh. You both get busted Like every other week." Y/N retorted back. "Oh... uh, yeah. Well, I'm here now" He whispered back into her ear. "Good thing". She nuzzled the side of his neck. His hips shifted against hers. 'I'm getting a good idea."

He was holding onto her like he didn't ever want to let her go. His hands were stroking up and down her spine, across her bottom, and along her thighs. The skin-on-skin contact set the beast of arousal free deep in the pit of her belly. She hadn't realised how much she'd needed and craved his touch until now . " You'd better hurry, I've already been too patient, Freddie I don't think I can hold on much longer ' she whispered. He went quiet, but she could feel the hard press of his cock against her. Instinctively, she rocked against him. He groaned, and his fingers bit into the flesh of her bottom

"Baby, you tempt a man to do things he shouldn't" he said tightly. The soft words sent a thrill through her. "Live dangerously, and take the risk once in a while".

She expected him to kiss her to carry her into the bedroom to continue further . Instead, he did nothing. Absolutely nothing. A muscle ticked wildly in his sharp jaw, but it was the only movement he made. Are you sure?' he asked, not wanting to move until she gave him the go ahead.

She glanced at his face carefully surveying his features. The heat in his eyes. That slow smile returned, and his eyes sparkled. He looked like a hungry wolf just thrown a piece of raw meat after living on scraps for months. She took a deep breath and felt her nipples brush hard against his chest. All thanks to the Quidditch days. "Find out how much,' she whispered, daring him, biting at the lobe of his ear. His eyebrows lifted, but he didn't break the contact of their stare. Y/N''s nerves still went jittery when his hand slowly moved from her bare ass to between her legs. He gathered the material impatiently until he found his way underneath it. Yanking the crotch of her lace panties aside not caring once if he tore them , he sent his fingers searching. Her desire blazed hot and hard when his callused fingers touched her. "Damn", he murmured under his breath as he stroked between her folds. Watching her face twist , he pushed into her hot core that was so slick, soft and welcoming.

"Oh!" she gasped. He'd started with two thick fingers, but was already working in a third. The pinch he made the sensitive bud of her clitoris made her entire body go on edge. He crammed all three fingers deep and let them curl, feeling for that once special spot that had her screaming his name. "You feel incredible" Fred praised Y/N. "Fred" she groaned. She let her hands glide their way over his wide shoulders. "Take me inside. Now!"

His eyes became clouded, but when he turned towards the stairs leading to the flat above the shop only he didn't head to the door. Instead, he pushed her right up against the wooden railing's. Y/N ground herself up against him. Fred's hands stilled her movements. "Uh uh My way" he warned. His gaze swept up and down her body. " We do it right here" he said .

"What? Wait!" she said, catching her breath. Recklessness was one thing, Being caught in the act was another. 'Somebody might see us through the windows Freddie" Y/N warned trying to keep a careful mind.

"So let them you wanted me to be creative. Let's get creative" He wiggled his eyebrows at her before pulling his fingers abruptly out of her. Those devious fingers started working on her lace bralette in an attempt to free the breasts he so wanted to see.

The moon rose through the window , casting light onto her body. He was looking at her like he could devour her. He would devour her. "Look at you". He sighed. "Drop dead fucking gorgeous." He reached for the zipper of his jeans, and she squirmed in anticipation.

'Fucking gorgeous,' he whispered again. A thrill rushed through her when she felt his broad tip bump against her. With one smooth thrust he slid all the way inside. Sheathing himself within her.

"Ohhh", she groaned.

His jaw went slack, and his body shuddered at the noises Y/N made. Buried deep within her Fred then pulled back and began thrusting frantically. Her body arched, and she clutched at his shoulders leaving nail imprints in her wake. He was slamming home with every thrust.

"Christ, you feel good," he panted.

Y/N moaned. Each thrust ground her butt against the wood of the railing's. The pain, though, was enough to make her want to yell. So she did.

"Fred!"

He bucked harder, nailing her to the wall Y/N could hardly stand the pleasure. . She clawed at his T-shirt until she found her way underneath it to smooth, hot skin.

"Look at me," he growled as he kissed her again. He lifted her legs higher around his waist, giving him a deeper access point. "Give it to me, baby. Give it to me."

She clutched at the strong muscles of his back. They were going at it like two wild animals, and he was enjoying it as much as she. 'I'm close,' she gasped, unable to hold on for much longer.

He grunted, thrust hard, and lodging himself deep. She tightened around him, and he smothered her cry of pleasure with a kiss. He bucked against her one last time, and she felt him spurt inside her. His weight pressed heavily against her, and she sagged against the railings thoroughly fucked. She'd just had the best fuck of her life. "That wasn't a slow poke," she said breathlessly. Fred chuckled against her.

"Can we go upstairs now?" she asked, her lips brushing against his ear. " There's a perfectly good sized bed up there Freddie".

"Oh, yeah so there is " He carefully lifted his weight from her and gathered her into his arms. "We're going to need that because I'm not done here". With that he wrapped her legs around his waist and rushed them to the bedroom. Laying her on the rug beside the fireplace. He hugged her tightly and one hand trailed straight down her belly. His fingers brushed against her patch of dark hair before disappearing between her legs once again. Y/N arched her back when he cupped her dripping sex. Heat suddenly coursed through her. The warmth of the fire was spreading over her but it wasn't nearly as hot as the chest rubbing against her back or the hand stroking between her folds." You know Georgie told me a little secret, He's had dreams about fucking this pussy of yours, this pussy that belongs to me. Even asked if he could join or watch sometime. What do you make of that princess? You fancy being fucked by both me and Georgie , us filling you up so good . Or maybe the thought of Georgie watching me fuck you so good you forget your own name " Fred whispered into her ear. The words alone made her want to scream.

The muscles in his arms bunched as he adjusted her on his lap. Her thoughts were too chaotic to understand until he lined her up with his solid cock. She sank down and a sigh of pleasure left her lips. Oh, he was unbelievable.

"Just think about it," he said as he began to rock their bodies together in a slow motion. For me. Her fingers bit into his thick thighs. With each slow stroke her thoughts bounced from one brother to the other. It made her feel desired. Sexy even. And totally out of control. She tried to bounce faster wanting to increase the pace on Fred's lap, but he wouldn't let her. Using his strength over hers, he turned and settled her lengthwise onto the fur rug in front of the fireplace. "Stretch out for me, baby. On your stomach" Y/N let out a slow purr. She'd never been so stimulated in her life . Not missing a stroke, he put her on her knees and she unfolded. She went down slowly with her legs spread wide. His hand slid under her to tilt her hips back at just the right angle before he lowered into her

"Mmm," she murmured. She stared into the fire dreamily. Two sexy brothers. One hot night. The thought was indeed tempting. "Good? "he asked, his hips moving leisurely as he thrusted in and out of her. Her fingers curled into the soft fur. It tickled her at all the right places.

"What are you thinking about right now?' he whispered into her ear. She didn't even think of lying. "Georgie. And You " She sighed. He pushed deep and ground against her. 'Good girl," he said gruffly. He dropped a kiss onto her temple, and her low moan filled the room. When her orgasm started, it was hot and pure. Where it ended and the next one began , to hell if she ever knew. She came hard, and she came long clawing at him. As the pair rode out their climax's , the door swung open. Y/N covered herself with her hands , " George knock" she screamed. "Yeah Freddie knock next time" Fred had said. Y/N Swung her head to look at the Fred she just had sex with. The Fred at the doorway grinned at his brother. "He's not Fred , I am" he exclaimed. Y/N buried her head between her knees, she couldn't believe it. All those words were from George himself. Fred slung his arm around George's shoulder . " I can't believe you genuinely convinced her" they laughed. Those bastards she thought. " Wait you knew about this ?"Y/n exclaimed looking between the pair. " Of course I did how else was I supposed to bring up poor Georgie's needs hmm?" Fred asked using his fingers to tilt her head up to look at him. George however beamed from ear to ear. " About that Freddie she was all game for us both , quite a dark horse if I do say so , definitely not as innocent as she seems" George beamed widely. Fred laughed back in response and Y/N moved her hands to cover her face, hiding the red from embarrassment. " I do think this was our best idea yet" Fred said speaking to George. " I think it is too Freddie. I do too" . Y/N rose to her feet , " evil the pair of you. Evil twins" She growled out, causing both twins to double over in laughter.

#weasley smut #fred weasley x y/n #george weasley x y/n

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rainydelaneyy · 3 years ago

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From a young age Snufkin knew he wasn't a girl, knew that his body wasn't quite right if it made everyone think he was a girl, eventually he couldn't bear it anymore and came crying to Moominmamma. The big moomin held him in her arms, smoothing down his fluffy hair to sooth him and rocking in her chair.

"What is it, my dear? What has you so upset?"

The poor little mymrik's face was all wet from his tears and some of his hair was sticking to his face. He didn't typically show it when he was distressed, but this was super serious to him.

"Oh Moominmamma, I don't know what's wrong with me! I'm not a girl, but you all think that I am! I don't want you to think I'm a girl, I'm a boy Moominmamma! I'm a boy!" He wasn't angry, he was just incredibly upset with the situation. It wasn't a situation the moomin was familiar with, but it didn't seem too difficult to fix. She kissed his forehead and hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, it will definitely help now that you've told me, darling. Why have you never said anything about it?"

Snufkin wiped his eyes and sniffled "I thought maybe everyone would figure it out without me having to say anything. I didn't know I would have to say it."

Moominmamma helped him wipe his tears and took him to wash up his face with a warm wet rag. "Well now that you've told me, the issue will be resolved. I will make sure to tell Pappa, Sniff and Moomin unless you want to tell them yourself. Oh, and was there another name you'd like to be called? I don't think anyone else has the name Snufkin, so I don't think it would affect anybody's view of you."

He shook his head "There's nothing wrong with my name. I like my name." He said, giving Moominmamma a tired smile. She smiled back at him, scooping him up in her arms and going back out to her chair where they were soon joined by Moomin who she scooped up in her other arm.

"Oh hello Moomin, dear. What woke you?" Mamma asked, smiling as the two almost instantly curled up together.

"Snufkin being gone did, mamma. I heard crying and I saw that she was gone and- What's the matter, Snufkin?" The little moomin didn't know what he'd done, but Snufkin suddenly looked very upset again.

"Well, Moomin, he's just told me that he's a boy and we've had it wrong this whole time. I think you may have hurt his feelings just now, dear."

Moomintroll frowned and buried his snout in Snufkin's hair. "Oh Snufkin, I'm so sorry! Why didn't you tell me?" The gesture was reciprocated by Snufkin pressing his face into the moomin's fluffy neck.

"I thought maybe you would figure it out! Or maybe you wouldn't like me anymore if you found out, and I don't want you to not like me anymore."

Moomin pulled back from him, a shocked look on his face. "Why would that change me liking you? You're my favoritest person in the whole world! Nothing will ever ever change that. Especially not you being a boy." He laughed, rubbing his nose against Snufkin's.

As time went on, things got better, everyone was fairly good about things. Even Moominpappa, who was fairly stubborn and ignorant about everything, got used to it eventually. But then things got bad again as his body and voice started to change. Strangers would call him a girl even more often, and he couldn't stand it. In a fit of rage, he cut off his back length curly hair down to where it barely passed his ears. He thought he'd regret it later, but he actually had grown quite fond of it. He'd also started wearing baggier clothes, but he didn't know what to do beyond that.

On one of their adventures they met Snorkmaiden, who Snufkin was quite silently jealous of at first, as Moomin would often go out of his way to impress her, but one day the two of them ended up being the only ones awake so Snufkin settled for playing with her. She wasn't actually all that bad when Moomin wasn't around flirting with her. Suddenly she seemed upset and started anxiously fiddling with the end of her tail.

"Snufkin, do you think they've noticed that I'm not..that I don't have the right body?"

Snufkin was confused.

"What do you mean?"

She tilted her head at him "I'm like you! Well, except the other way. I'm a girl, but people don't understand that I'm a girl because I don't look enough like a girl snork, or sound enough like one. I've been seeing this nice lady that helps me with it, but sometimes I'm worried it won't be enough."

Snufkin hadn't even noticed anything off, but he also didn't know snork anatomy or assume anything about anyone. He felt comforted by her confiding in him with this information though. "Even if they have noticed, I don't think it matters to them. They like you no matter the body mix-up." He said, making her laugh and smile. She relaxed again and laid back in the flowers, turning her head to look at him.

"You know, I thought you didn't like me. You always seem upset when I'm around."

Snufkin blushed and looked away. Gods this was embarrassing.

"Well- It's- I- Okay. It's just..Moomintroll is always so..show offey in front of you. I don't know why it makes me so upset, but it's like I'm not his favorite person anymore! I guess that's fine if that's how he feels but.." He sighed, his ears drooping. The snorkmaiden gave him a sympathetic look, looking away for a moment before looking back at him.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't realize...I didn't realize that you were in love with him."

Snufkin turned to look at her so fast he nearly fell. His face was burning red. He hadn't realized it until this moment but she was absolutely right. He was in love with him. He let himself collapse against the wildflowers and clutch the chest of his shirt with his paw.

"Oh goodness I'm in love with him…"

Snorkmaiden looked very confused. "You mean you didn't know you were in love with him?"

Snufkin shook his head "I guess I never really thought about it that hard before...But um, it's okay if he loves you. It may be better even. I know how hard it is on him when I leave, it would only be worse if he loved me."

Years passed and feelings only grew, but he said nothing of them to Moomintroll. Not even when he came in so fast for an embrace he nearly knocked Snufkin over on his first day back that Spring. He was so excited to see them he'd almost forgotten to show them something very important. He waited for the perfect moment at dinner that night to reveal his fresh pair of scars right under his pectorals, and how smooth it was now compared to the lumps that had laid there before.

Everyone was very happy for him and that only made his heart more full, but he still didn't say anything about his feelings. Not even when he and Moomin laid together in his tent that night and the moomintroll traced his scars with his soft furry fingers. Not even when he could have sworn he saw Moomin think about leaning in for a kiss but look away before anything could happen. Not even when the furry beast held him as they went to sleep, or when he was reluctant to part with him in the morning.

He couldn't. It wasn't even just for Moomintroll's sake now, it was for his own too. He could never have the alone time he desired if he desired his dear friend so much more. He hoped one day it would just go away so that they could live on with their lives without the heartache.

Even more time passed, and today he was sure it was the day he had to let go, but his feelings were stronger than ever, making things a bit difficult. It didn't matter though. Moomin had gone and Snufkin didn't know where to, and he must not have cared if he hadn't left a note, so he supposed he was leaving Moominvalley for good this time. But as he finally started to go, Toffle called him over from the coastline about a boat approaching and the sprint he broke into was involuntary.

At first he didn't see what Toffle was talking about and was fairly disappointed, but sure enough, there it was. The Adventure in all her glory, with a singular Moomin aboard and Snufkin knew it was him. He dropped his bag and hat on the grass and ran out to meet him as soon as he was docked, tears forming in his eyes. He gasped and laughed as the moomintroll picked him up and spun him around a few times, causing them to nearly lose balance when he set him back down.

"I'm so sorry I didn't say anything, I didn't know where you were or if I'd see you again before you left, and I was so focused on trying to make Snorkmaiden happy that I totally forgot to write you a note and-" Moomin was cut off by Snufkin suddenly bursting into tears, which was definitely not something he did unless it was a super big deal. "Oh no don't cry-"

"I thought I was never going to see you again! I didn't even know where to look for you and- I thought I was never going to have a chance to tell you that I love you and I would travel alone for the rest of my days."

Moomin held his face in his paws and blushed "Oh I'm so so sorry! I promise I'll never make you feel so helpless again for as long as I'm alive. Oh Snufkin, I've loved you forever, how could you not know that?" He crooned, his tail sticking straight up when his friend kissed him, but it was almost instantly reciprocated. This was it. The moment their lives this far had been leading up to. From that day on there would be no more silent tension, they would finally get to fully enjoy each other's company without overthinking about how the other may not feel the same way, because they knew. From now on, things would be just perfect.

(Or would they? Because perfect doesn't exist and every relationship has conflict even if it's just friendly arguments over silky things, but they're happy. I need to write my whole au and actually develop the story more, but it will exist eventually. Also this took like a minute to write please appreciate it. Also mymrik is my word for the hybrid that he is and either Jox or Mymble named him idk but he had a note with him that was just his name. Not canon, just canon in my stories.)

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avengersassemble-fics · 4 years ago

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Stark Legacy

part 01/?? "the only person"

master list

word count 4.3k

an: :3 welcome to a new fic bc idk how to control myself

WARNING: this part does depict alcohol usage, and mentions of other substances a character uses to cope (though nothing is explicitly mentioned).

“An unemployment and housing crisis skyrockets to higher levels as people still struggle to adjust and accommodate the population we had years ago. Streets are littered with people seeking hope-”

“According to world economists, the surge in loan denials is leading to an unprecedented end, leaving the experts scrambling for a way to get the economy back on track, also claiming that the Global Repatriation Council may be asking for too much-”

“Protests break out across Switzerland as support for the group known as the Flag Smashers rises, with the Global Repatriation Council denying any comment on the matter, as well as refusing to comment on the rumours that the newly titled Captain America is investigating the matter-”

“What can we expect from Stark Industries now that Tony Stark is no longer with us? Pepper Potts, while having led the company in a positive direction prior to the Blip, has had no new developments over the last six months. With these newfound challenges the world is facing we’re left to wonder.. Who is going to step up as the ingenious mind behind new innovation? Will the youngest Stark continue on in the steps of father and brother, or are we seeing the end of the Stark Legacy?”

Click.

Silence filled the blue colored cottage that was tucked away at the end of the street in Ransdorp. Though dim and lifeless inside the cottage, outside the sun shined while birds chirped away happily and the sound of children playing echoed through the air. But inside the cottage, all alone, someone stood and tossed a television remote back onto the couch that was once occupied. They shed the blanket that had been wrapped around their shoulders all night while listening to all the different news reports, and entering a small bedroom and dressed in the dark. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and after shuffling through the cottage to grab a few things, the back doors were pushed and locked open, and a breeze blew through the house.

You squinted as you put a sun hat on and oversized sunglasses, overlooking the green oasis you had worked on every day for the last six months. Pushing away the thoughts of what the news had been saying, you stepped down onto the wooden patio that lined the back door and carried a hefty packed bag with you to the garden you had planted. You set the bag down and kneeled into the soft grass, and got to work on picking on fresh vegetables to use for your dinner later. Lucky for you, the soil was perfect here.

So… How have the last six months been for you?

Well the garden was a distraction your neighbor had suggested after finally catching you one day while throwing out a bag full of alcohol bottles you had consumed. You could see her take a second glance over your disheveled appearance, but she ignored it for the most part (which thankfully she did, you were a little sick of people telling you how to feel at the time). Naturally, instead of working through your problems, you distracted yourself from them.

But in all honesty… It’s been hard. Maybe it was selfish of you to think so, but you felt like you had been dealt one of the shittiest hands from the universe. The pressure from the world after… After Tony’s death was suffocating. As more paparazzi followed you around, the worse that anxiety had gotten. With that newfound attention, you had also been summoned by the United States government to attest for your time as a HYDRA agent. Lucky for you, in some way, they dropped any serious charges due to your restraint under the program, but sentenced you to weekly therapy sessions (since SHIELD had denied to disclose your mental capabilities). To your knowledge, Bucky Barnes had been offered a similar deal. The therapy lasted all of a month before you… Negotiated your way out of it, and returned to this safe place.

You drowned yourself in drinks and other activities after leaving New York, which in turn made your black-out episodes reappear, which had become evident as the photographed wall in your second bedroom started to be crossed out fast. You couldn’t help but twitch at the thought, and steered clear of that subject. But as of five months ago, you were all but cut off from all things Avengers.

Everyone had gone their own separate ways for the most part. Wanda was off the radar, Sam had gone and gotten a contract with the Air Force, Clint got his family back, Rhodey was some top notch Air Force guy (you didn’t really know what he was up to nowadays), Thor was gone offworld, Scott was making up for lost time with his family, and Bucky… Well, you didn’t know much about that situation either. Sam had tried to reach out after everything, but in one of your drunken states you threw your phone in the Weersloot river. You didn’t need a reminder of that day, or those few weeks even.

You never played the message Happy had given you from Tony. You never had the courage to do so, and you had it tucked away in your room safe and sound. Honestly? You were starting to think you never would be ready to hear what Tony had to say to you before he died. You just couldn’t bear to hear it, never would… Because if he even mentioned someone’s name you didn’t know how you would react.

When you started to think about Steve, you picked up a drink to take your mind off it. You had yet to come to terms with him leaving, because it still hurt like the day it happened.

Losing Tony was the worst thing that could’ve happened in your eyes. He was your family, though Pepper and Morgan had become your family too, Tony was the last piece of your family you could hold onto. The last shred to the past you fought so hard to remember and cherish, and now him and that part of you was gone. He was your everything. He always would be.

But Steve? Losing Steve wasn’t something you had ever even considered. While Tony was your soul, Steve was your heart. Despite everything you two had been through, the feelings hurt and the years it took to make it back together, Steve always had your heart. He was the man you wanted to fall asleep with and wake up to. He was the man you talked about growing old with, what life would be like if he gave up the Captain America mantle, he was supposed to be your future...

And then he stayed in the past, and left you here confused. Hurt. Alone.

You lost the two people you had left in the world. Your heart and your soul. And it was the most devastating blow you had ever felt… Everyday you wondered how someone comes back from something like that, if it was even possible.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a hefty softball landed in a thud in your garden and smushed one of your little tomatoes. You blinked at the sight before grabbing the ball and looking up to see the familiar short boy next door pulling himself up on the fence that separated your yard from his, and you grabbed a rag from your bag and wiped the softball off.

“Je vernielt in zijn eentje mijn tuin, weet je,” (You’re single-handedly ruining my garden, you know) you said to the boy and looked up at him through your sunglasses.

“Vergeef mij,” (Forgive me) he said and rested his head on his hands to watch you finish wiping his ball off. “Mijn vader wilde niet met mij spelen” (My dad wouldn’t play with me).

You stopped wiping for a moment and could see the sad look in the kids face. You smiled softly and stood, making your way over to the fence and handing him his ball back, though his expression didn’t change.

“Vraag het me de volgende keer dat je wilt spelen, oké?” (Next time you want to play, come ask me, okay?) You told him, and the smile reappeared on his face and he gave you a nod. You ruffled his hair as he jumped back off the fence and played once again. You went back to your bag, now full with vegetables, and picked it up to head back inside. You had a sweet pasta recipe to try tonight, and you think what you selected should work great-

You stopped in your tracks right before the back door. You lowered your sunglasses and lowered your gaze to the ground as you tried to focus on the sound in the air, the shift in the environment. You may have been slightly hungover but the presence was not hard to miss. You straightened your stance and gripped your sunglasses in your fist.

“Sam?” You called out. At first there wasn’t any rustling, but after a few moments you heard your back gate unlock and creak open, and that’s when you could hear the extra set of footsteps. You slowly turned around to face who had finally tracked you down, and were met with Sam Wilson… And Bucky Barnes in tow.

“What are you doing here?” You more so asked Sam. The pair glanced at one another and Bucky nodded his head at his partner in crime (God, you could just tell they were up to something) and Sam shoved his hands into the jacket he had been wearing.

“We came to see you, check in on how you’re doing,” Sam said. You chuckled a bit, and shook your head.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you called him out. “What are you really doing here?”

“We need your help,” Bucky said. You bit your tongue and looked them over, maybe just a little curious as to what was going on. Just a little. “We stumbled onto something that I think you may have some information on.”

You hummed to yourself for a moment, thinking it over. Truthfully, the last thing you needed was whatever this was. So you shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “I’m afraid I can’t help, but thanks for thinking of me.”

You turned your back on them and stepped up a couple steps into your house, and was all but ready to close the door to the world and close yourself off from Sam and Bucky, but Bucky took a step forward.

“There’s more super soldiers out there,” Bucky said in a serious tone. You stopped in your tracks, gripping onto your door for a few moments before looking back out to the pair. Bucky was watching you intently, in a stare you had only seen on him once before (which you didn’t want to recount at the moment). There was movement near the fence, and your eyes darted there to see the neighbor boy peeping his head over to see what was going on. When his gaze met yours, and you gave him “the look” he disappeared just as quickly as he appeared, and you looked back at the pair standing in your yard and against all better judgement, motioned your head behind you. Understanding your cue, Sam led the way inside, and you shut the door quickly behind Bucky.

You moved around the burly super soldier and brushed past Sam to set your bag of veggies in your kitchen. You had to take a moment to compose yourself before facing the duo who had been watching you intently. “Okay.. Go on. What do you mean there’s more super soldiers?”

Sam grabbed something from his pocket, a phone it looked like, and pulled something up before handing you the device. You hesitantly took it and looked down at the phone, where a video began playing of the recent Gasel Bank heist. You watched as someone got beaten to the ground, but what was astonishing was the sheer strength the masked person showed. Captivated, you carried the device into the living room and plopped down into the cushions of your sofa and watched more footage, this time up close from what you could guess were Dumb and Dumber who moved to hover over you.

“We were hoping you might know something,” Sam said. You handed his phone back to him which he graciously accepted, and you tapped your fingers together in thought before looking over at Bucky.

“What makes you think I know anything?” You asked. Bucky seemed to huff in annoyance at your questioning him, in all honesty you just wanted to hear him say it.

“You and I both know what went into the replication of that serum, your program especially,” Bucky said. You felt a lump form at the back of your throat and you casted your eyes downward. “You were still there after me… Did they perfect Stark’s serum?”

You looked back up at his question, and you held his gaze for a moment. You couldn’t believe this was how your day was turning, and you were pissed that he of all people were bringing up your past, like you volunteered for any of that shit. You lightly bounced your leg as you fought to remember what you had known.

“HYDRA had been unsuccessful in using my father’s formula of the serum again, even after you managed to escape their hold,” you started. You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat and leaned back into the couch, averting your gaze from Bucky to the floor as you searched your memory. “They brought in a scientist, but it wasn’t my op, and it was on a need to know basis. The only reason we knew they started the research again was they started taking people from the Phantom program to test the serum on.”

“Phantom program?” Sam asked.

“That’s what they called us,” you mumbled. “All of us were deemed dead so… It was only fitting.”

“Did the scientist perfect the serum?” Bucky asked. You shrugged your shoulders and met his look again.

“Didn’t think so,” you answered honestly. “So if there’s serum still out there, he has to be your guy. Though I can say I didn’t see any kind of sign of that activity when working with SHIELD.”

“But it’s a start,” Sam nodded and Bucky looked his way. The two started sharing odd glances, and you watched in confusion. Sam suddenly looked your way and motioned around. “Think you could spare some time and do this mission with us?”

“Sam-” Bucky began to say as a warning, but you chuckled a bit which made him stop.

“I don’t do this anymore,” you told them as you motioned between them.

“Come on (Y/N),” Sam tried to reason as you stood up and walked your way back into the kitchen and opened up a cabinet in search of tonight’s bottle of wine to go with dinner. “I get that you’re going through it, I really do, but-”

Just as you managed to select the perfect medium-bodied red wine, Sam had come up beside you and took the bottle out of your hand. “This isn’t going to help you.”

“Yeah Sam and what is?” You asked while crossing your arms. “Because right now the only thing that would help me out is to see my brother again but guess what! It’s not going to fucking happen! It’s just me, here, and all by myself. All by myself…”

Your words trailed off as a heaviness grew in your chest. The atmosphere in the room was a lot more stuffy, and you would rather curl up and disappear then let Sam (and Bucky) see you cry. But here you fucking were, with Sam seeing the tears build up in your eyes and the look he gave you, you wanted to be mad but the only thing that you could seem to feel was just sad. You blinked back the feeling and took a glance back at Bucky, who stood in your living room and averted his gaze. You looked back at Sam, and put on the best front you could.

“You’re welcome to stay for the night, someone can take the bed in my room and someone can take the couch, but tomorrow? We go our separate ways again,” you said in a low tone. Sam’s look at you was… Disappointment. Before the sentiment could settle on your already guilty conscience you turned around and grabbed your keys and a peacoat and stopped at the front door. “Help yourselves to whatever you need.”

With that, you pulled the door open and just as swiftly shut behind you. The cottage walls shook for a moment before settling to a silence inside. Sam looked down at the bottle in his hand and set it back onto the counter before looking Bucky’s way, who still looked annoyed.

“What?” Bucky defensively asked when he noticed Sam’s stare. Sam shook his head at him and pushed the wine bottle to the back of the counter.

“You pushed that too hard,” Sam said, to which Bucky scoffed.

“Me? You’re the one who asked her to join us which, by the way, where did that come from?” Bucky questioned as Sam came back to the living room and sat down on the couch. Sam leaned forward with his arms on his legs and rubbed his hands together.

“Take a look around Robo-cop,” Sam emphasized and Bucky let out an annoyed sigh. “You’re seeing what I’m seeing, right?”

Bucky looked around at your surroundings. He wouldn’t peg it as chaotic, but he also couldn’t pin it as put together. There were personal touches here and there, but it didn’t feel like you belonged here. Bucky wasn’t blind to what was going on here, but he also didn’t see how that pertained to what Sam was suggesting.

“Sam, we came for some information, we got it, so why don’t you tell me what you’re trying to say,” Bucky replied. Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back into the cushions.

“We let her come here, by herself, even knowing how devastated she was after Tony died,” Sam explained. Bucky’s eyes darted to the floor at the memory of him following you out to that shed the day of Tony’s funeral, and the empty expression your eyes held. “Hell, we don’t even know how she felt about Steve. We should’ve been here for this. And that makes us shitty friends.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say we’re friends-”

“Oh I’m sorry, who's the one that said she owed you a favor?” Sam asked and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“I did, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Nah ah,” Sam cut him off and Bucky rolled his eyes. “If you two owe one another favors, then your friends.”

“That’s sound logic, Sam,” Bucky sarcastically said.

You tossed your glass bottle of whatever the hell it was you drank earlier into a trash can on your way back home. You pulled your keys out of your jacket pocket and jingled them around until you found your house key and hipped quietly. Your cottage was just in view and all the lights were out. You grumbled to yourself as you neared, forced to remember what had happened earlier in the day (and boy did you work hard to forget that Sam and bucky were at your lace haha). You stumbled up the two steps to your door and used the wall to steady yourself, before quietly shoving your key into the door and pushed the door open.

It took a second to adjust to the environment, but the whole cottage was pitch black, besides whatever light from the moon managed to filter in. You carefully walked around the couch and glanced down at who occupied it, and when you saw Sam peacefully asleep you then looked at the door to your room and shuddered at the fact Bucky must’ve taken residence in there. You huffed a bit, and pulled a spare blanket out of a basket and moved to the back door. When you finally got outside and shut the door to not disturb your guest you tossed your blanket onto the patio sofa you had and kicked your shoes off.

After shedding yourself of your peacoat and plopping down on the hard cushions, you inwardly cursed the two men inside. You were doing just fine before their arrival, you had a schedule of self loathing and drinking then sleeping that they were interrupting. You just weren’t looking forward to the repercussions of tonight’s sleep. You laid back across the sofa and looked up at the sky, though nothing was there anymore. Or at least there wasn’t anything you could see.

Let’s be honest here. The reason you had turned to drinking was because of the fuzzy feeling you got after awhile. Your mind got to drift to something else besides the memories of your past, like… what to drink next, or in this case, is that a star or an airplane? It made the moment more simple, it made you forget who you were until you woke up again. That didn’t mean you didn’t resent yourself for your actions, but you just added that to the list of reasons why your endgame was the best resolution. You just weren’t ready to tell anyone what that endgame was.

Your gate creaked and you tilted your head to look in that direction. You could barely make out the figure as they neared, Bucky’s face became more clear. You looked back up to the sky and shook your head a bit to yourself. Bucky came to a stop close to you, and sighed a bit.

“You should go inside,” He said quietly.

“You should just leave me alone,” you quipped back to him. Though you couldn’t see it, Bucky rolled his eyes at your drunken response. You suddenly felt a lot more sober, and you turned your head to face him. “You had no right, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked and you huffed.

“You had no right to bring up the Phantom program. I didn’t tell anyone about that, not even Tony,” you admitted to him. Bucky bit his tongue and looked up at the sky for a moment to collect himself. “I didn’t want anyone to go digging into the extent of that.”

“I didn’t know,” Bucky admitted. You blinked at him as he caught your gaze again. “Look… I’m sorry.”

You fell silent before letting out a small sigh and adjusting yourself to be a little more comfortable, your head finally starting to feel dizzy again. But Bucky wasn’t ready to settle this, he shifted his weight and turned to face you.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Bucky asked. Your eyes fluttered back open and you looked over at him. He had taken a step closer, and hovered over you, and you raised a brow.

“What are you talking about?” You asked him this time.

“The drinking,” Bucky pointed out. You huffed and turned your head in the opposite direction into the cushions, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to help you know.”

“Yeah and how would you know?” You asked and looked back at him. Bucky leaned down to get in your face, and you tried to move back from him.

“Because I’m probably the only person who really knows what’s going on in your head.”

You bit your tongue, and Bucky backed off. In a bit of a daze, you plopped back down onto the cushions and pulled the blanket you brought out up to your chin. Bucky rolled his eyes at you shutting him down, and he moved to the door to go inside. The sooner the morning came and Sam and he could leave, the better for him.

“I never blamed you, you know,” you said in a light voice. Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked over at you. Your eyes were closed, and you were breathing evenly. Bucky retracted his hand from the door knob and took a couple steps closer. He needed to hear that again.

“What did you say?” He asked. You stirred a bit, but didn’t answer him. Carefully, Bucky used his gloved hand to touch your shoulder, and give you a small shake. When you still didn’t say anything, Bucky sighed and looked between the door and you and cursed in his head.

Bucky carefully slid an arm under your shoulders, and then hooked his other under your legs. He hoisted you up into his arms and into his chest, and your head rolled into his arm. Bucky shook his head at it and carefully brought you back inside, and past the couch, and pushed your room door open with his foot. Bucky sat himself on the edge of your bed and balanced you in his lap with one arm, and pulled your blankets open with a free hand. When he finally got you into your own bed, he took the blanket you had outside from you and tossed it onto his shoulder, and pulled the blankets on the bed onto you. Bucky stood from your bed, and before leaving the room he took a final glance at you as you stirred just slightly.

Bucky closed your door, and walked back towards the couch and settled himself onto the floor. As his back met the floor, he couldn’t help but wonder if you meant what you said, about not blaming him for what happened. One thing he did know was he meant what he said. Bucky stared at the door to the second room in the house, and he shook his head.

If there was one person he truly wanted to make amends with, it was you. After all, you were on his list of names.

- - - - - - - - - -

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xiaomoxu · 3 years ago

Text

Lucien - Mind’s Quest: Arriving With The Crowd

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

Please beware of roller-coaster emotions from this. A sweet moment yet has a deep meaning between them, is ready to serve you~

*) I put [...] on my thought about some scene.

Translations under the cut~

Part 1

??: Lucien, MC, we met again.

On the way when Lucien and I get off from work, suddenly a familiar voice came from behind us.

We spontaneously turned around and saw our neighbor, Mr. Zhang, carrying a supermarket bag and beckoning to us with a smile.

Mr. Zhang: Recently, I saw you two commuting to and from get off from work together every day. It's a really good relationship.

MC: Mr. Zhang also helps your wife buy vegetables every day.

Mr. Zhang: My wife’s legs are not good, so I will run more errands. It’s not the same as when you are young.

Mr. Zhang: I remember MC said last time that you were going on a business trip, when would you leave?

MC: I will leave tomorrow.

Mr. Zhang: Oh my, it's no wonder! Then I won't bother you, so I'll leave you two.

Lucien: Okay, I understand, please be careful Mr. Zhang.

Mr. Zhang smiled and looked at us again, then strode away.

I received an outdoor reality show a while ago. I planned to go to the countryside of a neighboring province to shoot for three months. I heard that the signal over there is not very good and it is inconvenient to communicate.

In order to make up for the time when the two places were about to be separated, Lucien and I made an appointment to spare some time every day before departure.

Almost all the spare time was used by us when commuting to and from get off work, visiting the supermarket, and buying breakfast.

Even if it is somewhat "inseparable" in the eyes of others, I still feel that this time is far from enough.

When I was thinking about it, Lucien gently squeezed my hand, recalling my thoughts.

Lucien: How do you plan to spend the last night at home?

MC: Speaking of it, it might be a bit boring...

MC: In fact, my luggage hasn't been packed yet, so I'm always worried about what's left.

Lucien: Let me check it with you later.

Lucien: There is a distance between the shooting location and the urban area, so you still need to prepare well.

MC: Okay.

I looked up at the bright evening sky, and couldn't help but move closer to Lucien, entangled his arm.

MC: But the weather is so good today, let's go slowly.

Lucien: Alright.

As he said that, Lucien slowed down, we dragged a long shadow and walked slowly towards home.

Early the next morning, Lucien escorted me to the station.

After taking the luggage out of the trunk, I stood still and did not move.

Standing at the gate of the station, the dismay of parting suddenly surged up.

Lucien turned around with a sense and helped me stroke the messy hair in my ear.

Lucien: This time it's my turn to help you take care of the green plants. Don't worry, I will take care of them.

Lucien: And for you, if you need my help over there, remember to tell me.

MC: Okay.

I opened my mouth, but couldn't say anything more. Lucien sighed lightly and pulled me into his arms.

Lucien: It's ok, the words you want to say, I understand.

Lucien patted my back lightly, as if he wanted me to feel at ease.

I gradually calmed down, feeling the breath in his arms a little greedily, wanting to save a strength for myself.

None of us spoke, just let time pass quietly.

A radio alert sounded vaguely in the station, and the restraint on my waist was loosened. I also let go of my hand and raised a smile to Lucien.

MC: Phew... Recharge completed.

Lucien: It seems that the big producer is ready.

MC: Um! I will work hard, strive to go and return early.

Lucien: Okay, I'll wait for you to come back.

I waved to Lucien, pulled up the luggage and walked into the station.

After passing the security check and walking far away, I couldn't help but look back.

At the entrance of the station people were coming and going. I don't know who they are going to go to or who they have just said goodbye.

Lucien still stood on the spot, looking at me from a distance.

A train came into the station, and the crowd quickly engulfed him.

But knowing that someone is watching, has filled me with confidence.

Exclusive Radio

Lucien: The question just now is almost like this.

Lucien: After you go back, you can adjust your opening report based on today's discussion.

Lucien: Do you have any other questions?

Student A&B: There's none.

Lucien: Okay, that's all for today.

Student A: Huh? There is another hot search on the news.

Student A: "The villagers broke the news that the film crew was polluting the environment...This film crew seems to belong to the company "Miracle Finders", right?

Student B: Yes, I saw their propaganda a few days ago, saying that they are going to the neighboring province to shoot a reality show.

Student A: Local villagers said that they dumped sewage into the river and also posted photos.

Student B: This is too unqualified, right? Do you want to destroy people's environment in the name of local customs?

Lucien: ....

Student A: Wait a minute, Professor Lucien is the consultant of "Miracle Finders" .....

Student B: It's, Professor Lucien, we didn't have other meaning...

Lucien: It doesn't matter. It's a matter of fact. If the film crew really makes a mistake, it is normal to be criticized.

Lucien: But I want to know, did the photos on the hot search actually capture the scene where the show crew dumped sewage?

Student A: Not really, only pictures of the river.

Lucien: Then we better not draw conclusions so quickly.

Lucien: There is no objective fact of "the program group dumped sewage" in this photo, only the result of "the river water was polluted."

Lucien: People can stand from different angles and use this result to infer many different stories.

Lucien: There is only one true fact.

Lucien: How do you prove it, are the stories you heard were the facts?

Student A: I.....

Student B: Look, the program group issued a statement to refute the rumors!

Student B: They also did a picture comparison. It turns out that the picture on the hot search is a picture several years ago.

Student A: Huh? Then someone maliciously spread the rumors.

Student A: ... Sorry Professor Lucien, we were a little impulsive just now.

Lucien: There is no need to apologize to me, it is essentially the fault of the rumors.

Lucien: However, since the thesis is about to start the topic, you can use this matter to remind everyone.

Lucien: Whether you are doing research or encountering social events, don't be too impatient. Set your mind down and analyze the logic carefully.

Lucien: I will also look at your logic loopholes during the defense. So, I hope you will prepare it well.

Student A: Good professor, we must prepare carefully!

Lucien: Well, let's go back.

(Lucien left the room and close the door behind)

Lucien: Huh? No phone, no news...

Lucien: Forget it.

Part 2 - Main Story

I settled down at the shooting location and confirmed some shooting-related matters. It was too late when I got back to my senses.

--The whole day's hard work hits my body, but the unfamiliar environment makes me sleepless.

I unlocked the phone and saw that the conversation with Lucien was still staying in the report after arriving.

Suddenly I wanted to talk to him, so I raised my arm to find the signal direction and knocked on what I saw today.

MC: "Today, I was dealing with emergencies, the network was unstable, and the scene was very chaotic..."

MC: "But fortunately, I saw a very interesting book on the way, specially introduce words with special meaning."

MC: "For example, this one."

I posted a photo of a page in the book with the Greek word "pathos" on it.

T/N: The Greek word pathos means "suffering," "experience," or "emotion." It was borrowed into English in the 16th century, and for English speakers, the term usually refers to the emotions produced by tragedy or a depiction of tragedy. "Pathos" has quite a few kin in English. A "pathetic" sight moves us to pity.

It means the sense of yearning and longing for those who are absent.

I waited for a while, but Lucien didn't reply, he should have fallen asleep.

I confidently continued to type on the keyboard and talked out all kinds of experiences in one mind.

MC: "The villagers are very kind and hospitable and helped us a lot."

MC: "The air is also very fresh, and a faint fragrance of green grass can be smelled everywhere."

MC: "But there are so many bugs! Thanks to you reminding me to wear long pants yesterday."

I told everything from morning to night, and when I was about to say something, my phone suddenly shook.

A video call invitation appears on the screen.

I sat up, scratching my hair twice before press the answer button.

MC: You haven't slept yet...

Lucien: Well, just after finishing the report, I received your self-thinking message.

Lucien: I thought I couldn't wait for your good night today, but I didn't expect to receive a "big gift before going to bed".

MC: I don't know if you're still awake, is it bothering you?

Lucien: How come, I didn't feel disturbed.

Lucien: It should be said that I am very happy to see you share these experiences, in every detail.

Lucien: It seems that I am also experiencing these with you.

Lucien picked up the phone on the side and swiped, and smiled in a good mood.

Lucien: The book you took is also very interesting. The author has developed such a rich interpretation just around the word "pathos".

Lucien: This is the first time I know what this word means in Greek.

MC: Does this word exist in other languages?

Lucien: Well, I remember that this word is often used in English to convey the appeal of artistic works. It also means "sympathy" and "suffering".

MC: When you say this, you feel that there is a subtle connection between these two interpretations.

MC: Missing or longing for someone you care about can be considered "suffering", right?

Lucien: Maybe it is true.

Lucien: When the person you care about is not around, everything about her becomes more conspicuous, which makes people more aware of the fact that she is not around.

Lucien: Just like today.

Seeing that I was a little confused, Lucien pointed to his mobile phone.

Lucien: I saw some people on the Internet saying that the villagers at the filming location are somewhat dissatisfied with you.

Lucien: Is this the emergency you dealt with?

MC: ....I thought my actions for solving the problem were fast enough to keep you from discovering it.

Lucien: I thought you would talk to me about this sooner, so I have been waiting for your news.

I was stunned for a moment, and then quickly smiled at Lucien.

MC: Don't worry, those on the Internet are all rumors, I’ve already solved it.

MC: In fact, we get along very well, and we promised to let the guests help a family draw portraits tomorrow.

Lucien: Well, then I won't worry about it.

Lucien paused, and suddenly moved closer to the camera, seeming to want to see something clearly.

Lucien: Why you keep supporting your arm like that, is it not comfortable?

MC: No, because the signal at this spot is better...

MC: The accommodation conditions here are actually pretty good, and the rooms are clean and tidy.

MC: Except for the occasional signal, you have to looking for the angle yourself.

Lucien: I can imagine how you would look for a signal while holding your phone.

MC: You're teasing me again!

Lucien: Alright, I won't teasing you. It seems that you can sleep well tonight.

I lay down again holding my phone and patted the hard bed underneath.

MC: Newcomers may still have to get used to the bed for a few days.

Lucien: In this case, I will lie down with you.

Lucien turned off the top light and walked to the bed to lie down. I followed and turned off the ceiling lamp, leaving only the small lamp beside the bed.

The screen went dark, and Lucien's face also looked a little fuzzy.

We lie on each other's sides, looking at the screen, as if we were lying face to face.

Lucien kept looking at me. I was a little embarrassed by him, and my eyes began to drift around.

Lucien: Where are you looking at?

MC: ... I can't sleep, I want to divert my attention.

Lucien: It's better to close your eyes first, and I'll help you.

Seeing Lucien's encouraging gaze, I closed my eyes, and his low voice quickly came from my ears.

Lucien: Next, can you tell me what sound you can hear over there?

I pricked my ears and listened carefully, perhaps because my vision was blocked, my hearing became extremely sensitive.

MC: There is the barking of puppies and the roar of the machine.

MC: The alarm bell of a car rang...It was a bit noisy.

I subconsciously covered my head with a quilt, remembering that Lucien was still watching, and then secretly revealed half of my face.

Lucien: I seem to forget to remind you to bring earplugs.

Lucien: If you bear with it, the owner should wake up soon.

As soon as Lucien's voice fell, the noise outside the window stopped, and the world returned to silence.

Lucien: Is it quiet?

MC: Well, it feels quieter now than before...

We were silent in unison. Maybe the night is getting darker, and there is no other sound in my ears for a long time.

I don't know how long it took before I vaguely caught a tiny movement.

There are small ups and downs in the steady, it is Lucien's breathing.

I brought the phone closer, and subconsciously let my breathing keep up with his rhythm, as if we were in the same space.

My mind slowly calmed down, and my consciousness gradually drifted away in this sudden connection.

MC: Lucien...

Lucien: Hm?

MC: Good-

Did I say "good night"? It was too late to confirm, and my mind was gradually empty.

I do seem to be a little sleepy.

I don't know how long it took, Lucien's breathing gradually became even longer.

The girl on the screen is asleep, but she seems to have not released the phone yet.

Lucien sighed almost inaudibly, then curled the corners of his mouth again.

She was right, "The yearning and longing for those who are not around" does make people suffer.

Lucien gently stroked the sleeping face on the screen with his fingers, and spoke softly.

Lucien: Good night.

Part 2 - Memory Silhouette

Half a month has passed since the shooting. On weekend mornings, I was putting on makeup while chatting with Lucien.

MC: Professor Lucien has worked hard, and accompany me to get up early on weekends.

Lucien: It's okay, I just came back from buying breakfast.

MC: Huh? You finally remember to have breakfast on time!

Lucien: I heard that the spring limited soup dumplings from the Huxin Road store will be off the market in a few days.

Lucien: Thinking you might like it, I bought it.

Lucien: However, I forgot that you were not at home and accidentally bought two portions.

Lucien fiddled with the bag on the table and sighed softly.

I touched my flat stomach and sighed.

MC: I knew I should have eaten it again before I left, now I have to wait until next year...

Lucien: Then wait until next spring, we will buy it the first day it goes on sale.

MC: Okay! Then if you want to eat more today, just eat one for me.

Seeing Lucien nodded with a smile, I just patted the sunscreen on my face and closed my makeup bag.

Lucien: How do you feel that your dressing time has become shorter today?

Lucien: It usually takes at least half an hour before you come knock on my door.

I hummed twice, leaned close to the phone and tapped on the screen.

MC: Professor Lucien may not be aware of it. Make-up takes time and it takes time to remove makeup.

MC: At days, moving bricks are precious as moving gold, and I’m sleepy at night, so I don’t want to bother to remove my makeup.

MC: And now, it’s more important to be able to concentrate on talking with you for a while.

Lucien looked at me, smiling at the corners of his eyes and eyebrows.

Lucien: It seems that I was too accustomed to this intention before, and I will cooperate more with your time in the future.

Lucien: Speaking of this, I found a lipstick at home yesterday, which should have been dropped by you.

Lucien got up and disappeared from the screen for a while, and when he returned, he had the lipstick in his hand.

He opened the lid and showed it to me. I recognized that this was the one I carried with me before. The paste had already bottomed out.

MC: Actually this one is about to run out, just throw it away for me.

Lucien: Do you like this color very much?

MC: Yes, it's very versatile.

Lucien thoughtfully twirled out the remaining lipstick. I looked at him with a curious expression and couldn't help but smile.

MC: Lucien, in your eyes, are the various lipstick look similar?

Lucien: Just looking at it, it's a bit difficult to tell.

Lucien: But after you apply it, I can see the difference.

[Not me crying over this conversation ㅠㅠ]

MC: Unexpectedly, Professor Lucien is also have a talent for such things...

Lucien: This is not my talent.

Lucien: You make these colors look clearer and more beautiful.

[UGLY SOBBING]

It sounds like a joke, but his tone is very sincere.

I was a little embarrassed to look away, and my heart was filled with sweetness because of his attention.

MC: Do you have any favorite color?

Lucien: I have. What I see now is the one I like the most.

My cheeks were slightly hot, and I was about to say something when the phone alarm rang suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

Lucien: Is it time for assembly?

MC: Mmhm, how can time pass so fast...

MC: Then I'll go out first.

Lucien: Be careful on the road and take a break.

Lucien waved his hand as I did, and the sunlight shining in the room reflected his smile more clearly.

After finishing the call, I also subconsciously glanced out the window.

Although we can't spend this weekend together, but fortunately, we still enjoy the same sunshine.

Part 3 - Main Story

It has been a month since the shooting started, and the daytime sunshine gradually warmed up.

Three poles on this day, we set up the machine under the sun, but a guest did not wait.

Perhaps because of the sweltering weather, the guests were not very enthusiastic about their work, and even began to find all kinds of excuses to try "ask for leave".

Physical discomfort, temporary travel, family affairs... all sorts of things like

The reasons for yes and no are endless, which makes us very embarrassed.

I communicated privately a few times, hoping that they would cooperate with the work, but within a few days, the old drama will repeat itself.

Today was another morning without anyone. My colleagues took turns to the residence to persuade. I also made a few calls to the guests’ agents.

Fortunately, after some coordination, the guests finally came forward, and we started the machine in the afternoon.

But in this state, the shooting process becomes a bit difficult. The venue is not cool enough, there are too many retakes caused by the wear, and I don't like interactive sessions...

Little things that did not constitute a problem have become problems. I tried my best to explain from them, so that my colleagues and guests did not quarrel.

In order to ensure the quality, I temporarily decided to stop work ahead of schedule after the key parts were taken.

I took advantage of the break time and prepared to go to the nearby supermarket to buy some supplies to comfort everyone.

Along the way, the villagers who came home passed by, and the sound of conversation and the roar of tricycles filled the evening breeze.

Although they looked tired, everyone was happy on the way home.

I suddenly remembered the days when I left work with Lucien before I left. At that time, I also had the same happiness as them. It was expectation and stability.

I don't know what Lucien is doing now. Did he leave work on time? Did he eat well? I took out my cell phone, but found that there was no signal.

I turned off the screen, walked silently to the entrance of the village, and suddenly a bright light shrouded my head.

The street light was on, and the warm light spread on the road outside the village. In front of the platform not far away, a bus full of passengers was pitting in.

Looking at the scene in front of me, I seemed to be gently pushed by a force and changed the direction of advancement.

I got on that bus.

Clerk: Welcome!

MC: ....

Originally, I just wanted to take the bus to relax, but I didn't expect to sit at the terminal --- the railway station accidentally.

The power that clamored in my heart drove me to buy a ticket for the fastest return to Loveland City.

When I walked out of the Loveland City Railway Station, it was raining heavily outside.

I watched the pedestrians passing by in the rain, and the reason for escaping gradually returned to my brain.

I walked into a nearby 24-hour store and sat down. I was looking at the night view outside the window and combing my thoughts. My phone suddenly vibrated, and Lucien's messages popped out.

Lucien: "Are you done?"

MC: "Well, it's finished."

I thought about it and added another sentence.

MC: "it's raining outside."

Lucien: "It's a coincidence, it's raining in Loveland City."

Listening to the patter of rain, I calmed down a bit and dialed the video call.

Lucien quickly picked it up. With the light on, I saw the familiar room behind him at a glance, which seemed to be my living room.

MC: Lucien, are you at my house?

Lucien: Mmhm, the rain is a bit heavy, let me move the green plants on your balcony.

Lucien: Are you still outside?

MC: I'll go out to buy something for everyone, and I'll go back when the rain drops a bit.

Lucien: It's already a bit late, so be careful when you go back.

MC: Don't worry, I am fully equipped.

As I talked, I nodded vigorously, as if to prove something, and as if I just wanted to convince myself.

Under the bright light, Lucien's dark circles were obvious, and his face looked a little pale.

There was a bit of sourness in my heart, I subconsciously moved closer to the screen.

MC: Lucien, what have you been up to lately?

Lucien: There is a study at the end, and the things at hand are a bit trivial.

MC: Is it very hard? You look a little haggard.

Lucien: In order to avoid blemishes as much as possible, it is indeed a bit harder.

Lucien: But it will be over soon, don't worry about me.

Lucien: But you seem to be very busy lately. Have you encountered any difficulties?

MC: There is a little problem...but fortunately, it is not difficult to solve.

I hesitated for a moment, thinking that I secretly ran back to Loveland City like this, I always felt a little embarrassed, so I changed the subject.

I glanced at the room behind him, and suddenly caught a bright color near the window sill.

MC: Lucien, what's on the windowsill...?

Lucien: Recently, a new flower shop opened near the research institute. There are many type of flowers and they are very beautiful.

Lucien: So I bought some privately and put them in your house.

MC: Well, I want to see it too.

Lucien switched the camera to the rear, and I saw a row of flowers on the windowsill, almost in full bloom.

It can be seen that these flowers are taken care of by Lucien very well, but the colors are all gorgeous, and they are inevitably dazzling when they are placed together.

always feel that this is not in line with Lucien's style, so I spoke with some doubts.

MC: Lucien, did you choose this all?

Lucien: I just chose the type of flowers, and the clerk helped to match the others.

Lucien: What's the matter?

MC: Nothing... they are bloomed very well.

MC: Is it time-consuming to raise so much?

Lucien: It does take time to change the water and pruning, but once in a while, it can be regarded as a kind of rest.

Lucien: Sometimes it is a little more comfortable to do things according to your own will, right?

I vaguely think that he meant something. Did he find out what he sneaked back into? It shouldn't be so obvious....

Just as I was thinking about how to respond to him, Lucien turned back to the camera and met my gaze.

Lucien: What about you, is there anything you really want to do now?

MC: Yes, I really want to go home, and immediately sleep for three days and three nights, and then go to eat hot pot and soup dumplings.

MC: I also want to watch movies and dramas instead of the ones I made myself.

Lucien: I thought that at least one of these wishes was related to me.

MC: Of course it is related to you. These are all things I want to do with you.

MC: It’s just that sometimes I don’t dare to think too much. It would be a little sad if I remember that you are not around.

I lowered my eyes, on the opposite side, Lucien did not speak for a while. Only after a while, I heard his voice again.

Lucien: In fact, every time the flowers bloom and wither, I also get annoyed.

Lucien: It would be nice if I could see it with you. If I raise it with you, it might be able to bloom longer.

Lucien: I am used to witnessing these moments with you. When you are not around, it is really uncomfortable.

I looked at his slightly bent eyes, and the bottom of my heart loosened for a moment, like a seed coming out of the soil.

MC: Then next time there are flowers blooming, please send me a picture.

MC: Although the network on my side may be delayed, it can be considered as a witness with you.

The smile on Lucien's lips deepened, and he nodded gently.

Customers opened the door one after another, and I glanced out the window. The rain had stopped.

Worried about revealing my position, I hurriedly moved closer to my phone.

MC: Lucien, the rain stopped on my side, I'm going to catch the last bus first.

MC: Let's continue tomorrow, go to bed early. Good night!

Lucien: ... Alright, pay attention to safety. Good night.

As soon as Lucien's voice fell, I hung up the phone in a hurry, and quickly bought a ticket to the neighboring province.

The sky was still gloomy, but my mood faintly became lighter.

One-sided thoughts may be troubles, but if this trouble gets a response, it turns into some kind of power.

The feeling of wanting to escape disappears. Between parting and reunion, I will run as soon as possible.

Because I know he is waiting for me.

Part 4 - Main Story

The filming work has been going on for two months, and the sense of summer has gradually become clearer.

It wasn't until the evening when the heat subsided. Colleagues walked to the restaurant one after another. I took out my mobile phone and walked to a place where there was a signal, and left a message to Lucien.

MC: "I have finished work, is Professor Lucien still busy?"

The words "The other party is typing" appeared at the top of the dialog box, but soon stopped and changed to a video call invitation.

I hurriedly picked it up and Lucien's figure appeared on the screen. He was wearing a white coat and seemed to be still in the laboratory.

Lucien: Sorry, I may have to work overtime today.

Lucien: When checking the data, we found some problems, and we need to "rescue" them.

MC: Is it serious?

Lucien: Fortunately, it's just a bit time-consuming to process.

Lucien rubbed his eyebrows, and my heart tightened suddenly as I looked at his tired face.

MC: I remember that you were finishing up last month, is it almost to the deadline?

Lucien: It's less than a week.

Lucien: This time I brought a newcomer, and there are a lot of things that need to be run-in in the details.

MC: They might feel a little nervous, it's the first time they take on an important job.

MC: But with Professor Lucien, everyone will be able to find the way out smoothly.

Lucien smiled and moved a little closer to the screen.

Lucien: I find that in your eyes, "Professor Lucien" always seems to be very powerful.

MC: Not only "Professor Lucien", in my eyes, Lucien is omnipotent.

MC: As the saying goes, those who can do more work, but you can't force yourself too much.

MC: Maybe you can’t rest assured now, but I have a tip to make you feel better.

Lucien: Oh? I really need it. Please tell me your advice, teacher MC.

MC: When it's really difficult, just give yourself a wish.

MC: In this way, every day we are moving towards that final wish and we have overcome many difficulties without realizing it.

MC: For example, arrange a vacation or travel, as long as it is something you like to do!

Lucien looked at me for a while and suddenly laughed.

Lucien: Thank you, teacher MC. I understand.

Lucien: In fact, this wish has always existed, maybe I'm just too impatient.

MC: What is Professor Lucien's wish?

Lucien blinked at me and skipped the question.

Lucien: If I remember correctly, your filming is also coming to an end.

MC: Well, the part of the reality show has basically been filmed, and I will go to the neighboring city next week to make up some empty shots.

MC: It is estimated that I will be able to go home soon to appreciate the flowers and plants that Professor Lucien has taken care of!

Lucien stretched his brows, and the smile in his eyes became deeper.

Lucien: Well, they are also looking forward to seeing you.

The neighboring city’s framing plan is based on the theme of "going home from work", for which the on-site director summoned a group of extras.

However, it rained suddenly before the filming started, so we had to buy an umbrella temporarily and distribute it to everyone.

I looked at the monitor and thinking about the moving line. I saw the light of the traffic light blurred in the rain, like a wet oil painting.

Considering that the theme of this reality show happened to be related to painting, my heart moved and decided to change the shooting plan.

MC: Please use an artistic way to express the theme, we will do slow-motion processing.

Think of this block as the background of the painting. You can use the props to simulate the people in the painting.

The actors seemed to be very interested in this suggestion and tried them.

MC: Let's try it first.

The camera moved slowly on the slide, the light slid between the transparent umbrellas, and the crowd moved closer to the camera and dispersed.

I seemed to catch a glimpse of a somewhat familiar figure in an instant, but in a daze, the figure disappeared again.

...How could Lucien be here? I must have saw it wrong

I blinked vigorously, forcing myself to concentrate.

Some of the people in this "painting" singing, some strode across the puddle, and some pulled out a stack of papers from their bags and threw them into the sky.

The night scene oscillated in these chaotic lines, and seemed to be lit by the warm atmosphere.

A piece of A4 paper flicked in front of the camera. After a brief loss of focus, the familiar figure suddenly appeared in the line of sight.

MC: ....?

I refocused, but found that the scene in front of me was not an illusion.

A narrow gap was opened between the crowds, and I saw Lucien holding the umbrella, walking towards me.

He didn't make any movements, but just followed the crowd forward.

The light-colored coat was stained with some rain, which did not weaken his refined temperament at all.

This is the "Professor Lucien" I am most familiar with. He walks in the crowd calmly, as if he just got off work.

The splendor in front of me instantly lost its sound, and my eyes could only follow him closely.

But why is he here, why did he join the group acting team?

Doubts and surprises are intertwined in my heart at the same time, I really want to run to him immediately. However, at present, the only thing I can do is to look up from behind the camera.

It seemed that I had been waiting for a long time, and the moment I looked at him, I looked into his full of emotions-eyes.

In the next second, he took out a familiar lipstick from his pocket, twisted his fingers apart, and slowly started writing on the inside of the umbrella.

Perhaps it was because the people around him were acting in an exaggerated manner, and his movements did not appear abrupt.

I subconsciously stared at his umbrella and slowly pieced together what he had written.

P-A-T-H-O-S, is the word we talked about.

The continuous rain water glides along the umbrella surface as if soaking it.

There is a faint bitterness in my heart, it is the smell of yearning and longing.

After a brief gaze, Lucien passed the equipment and stopped beside me, as if accidentally covering the umbrella over my head.

I came back to my senses and refocused my attention on the shooting until the group actors had all gone.

MC: Cut!

MC: Xiao Fu, tell the actors, just follow the feeling they just did, and take another shot later.

My colleague walked to the side to greet the actors. Seeing the atmosphere loosen, I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face the person behind me.

I took a straight step forward, squeezed his sleeve, and poked his cheek again. Lucien leaned down cooperatively, and let me touch him.

MC: Am I really dreaming...

Lucien: Do you need to check again?

The smiling eyes are so near. As if bewitched by the light, I opened my arms to embrace him.

The faint fragrance of green grass enveloped my breath, and I couldn't help but move closer.

MC: Lucien...

Lucien: Mmhm, It's me.

He was holding an umbrella in one hand, and he held me tightly on my shoulder with the other. I didn't care if there were other people beside me, and buried my face in his arms.

A real touch came from under my palm, and the tips of his hair flicked gently in my ears, itchy.

At this moment, without the barrier of the screen, even if I bury my head in his arms, I can clearly outline his appearance.

Lucien gently patted me on the back. I don't know how long it took before I heard his voice.

Lucien: Is it confirmed now?

MC: Hm.… It is indeed our Professor Lucien who has replaced the actors.

MC: But why are you here?

Lucien: Now I'm here, will it affect your work?

MC: No way, you just provided a super awesome picture.

I remembered the busy work he said before, and subconsciously stroked the back of his hand.

MC: Is your research over?

Lucien: It's just ended today.

MC: Why didn't you take a break first...

MC: It’s a few hours’ drive from Loveland City to here.

Lucien: Compared to the past few months, a few hours is nothing.

Lucien: Besides, someone suggested before that I should give myself a wish to face the problems.

Lucien: Now that the problems have been resolved, I will come to realize this wish.

I looked into his eyes and suddenly understood what his "wish" was that he didn't tell me that day.

MC: But we have to go back to the countryside after the filming today. Is such a short time enough?

Lucien: Not enough.

Lucien: But the moment I saw you, I still thought it was worth it.

Lucien: I just don't know.. Does this suit the "going home" theme required by the big producer?

I looked at his questioning expression, and couldn't help but gently squeezed his face again.

MC: Totally suitable.

MC: Lucien, welcome back.

Part 4 - Memory Silhouette

After a brief reunion, Lucien will return to Loveland City.

After the filming was over, my colleagues took the equipment back first, Lucien and I got on the bus to the station.

There were not many people on the bus at this time. We sat side by side by the window, and the neon lights circling outside the window passed by.

This short reunion still made me a little dazed. I stared at Lucien's reflection on the car window, as if I couldn't see enough.

The bus stopped for one stop, opening and closing the gap between the doors, Lucien turned around, with a helpless smile on the corners of his lips.

Lucien: Suddenly holding it so tightly, are you afraid that I will run away?

He raised our tangled hands, and I realized that I had just accidentally used some strength.

I let go hastily, and reluctantly hooked his finger again.

MC: It's a bit, after all, "sweet dreams" are always too short.

Lucien: If this is your dream, don't worry, it won't slip away easily.

Lucien gently folded his fingers and clasped my fingers.

Lucien: Speaking of it, I'm very curious, why didn't you choose the Loveland City for your shooting this time?

I paused and thought about the words before I spoke.

MC: Loveland City is a bit far away from us, and suitable shooting sites have not been approved for various reasons.

MC: But there is another reason that I don’t want to shoot in Loveland City.

Lucien: Hm?

I paused and thought about the words before I spoke.

MC: At first, everyone was back at their home. If they were in Loveland City, they might not even want to work.

MC: Especially knowing that I'm in the same city as you, I can't help but feel sorrowful.

Lucien smiled and stroked the back of my hand lightly.

MC: But how do I remember that you seem to have sneaked back once halfway through?

MC: Huh?! How did you know..

I looked up at him in surprise, but Lucien smiled and clenched my hand, pulling me closer.

Lucien: When you called me that day, it was in the store, right?

Lucien: There is an activity label on the shelf behind you, and I saw the words Loveland City.

Lucien: Moreover, the call that day was particularly smooth. Normally, your signal in the village should not be so good.

MC: ... Then why didn't you break through me?

Lucien: You look a little shaken, I have been waiting for you to tell me why.

Lucien: But you didn't, and you comforted me in turn.

Lucien: So I guess, at that time, you didn't really want to escape, you were just pissing off, or wanted to calm down, right?

The stop announcement of the bus intervened in our conversation, and after a short stop, we continued to move forward.

The night scene outside the window quickly receded, and only Lucien's smiling eyes stayed on me.

I secretly sighed in my heart. Maybe it is because he always looks at me like this that he can always guess any of my thoughts.

MC: I should have guessed it a long time ago, nothing can be hidden from you...

MC: But thanks to you chatting with me at that time, I didn't really waver.

MC: Knowing that someone was waiting for me to go home, it instantly became full of energy.

Lucien: Silly, you have worked very hard.

Lucien: Compared with the past, you already become stronger and braver.

Lucien: Instead, I need to get strength from you now.

I looked at his slightly frowning eyebrows, and there was a burst of soreness in my heart, and I leaned over to embrace his waist.

MC: Can this give you a strength?

Lucien: Hmm... But maybe you have to hug a little tighter.

MC: You are shameless.

With that said, I moved my body and moved closer to him.

A muffled chuckle came from the top of his head, and the temperature between his arms soon covered his back. I leaned on his shoulder and suddenly thought of something.

MC: By the way Lucien, who told you about the filming location?

Lucien: If I told you, would you blame that person?

MC: Of course, it's not right to disclose the itinerary privately

MC: But criticism belongs to criticism. Since it was revealed to you, I will still personally thank this person

I reluctantly rubbed his chin and buried my face in his shoulder.

I felt Lucien resting lightly on the top of my head, and a slight vibration followed his voice.

Lucien: I'll tell you when your work is all over.

Lucien: Now there are only two weeks left, and we can enter the countdown to go home.

Lucien: I hope that when you see me again, you can still be as happy as you are today.

MC: I will definitely be happier than today.

The bus kept entering and leaving the station, muting our tail sound in the slightly bumpy carriage.

I counting in my mind, there are three stops, two stops, one stop left. I'm going to say goodbye to him again.

However, the rainy season is about to pass.

I think it will be a clear sky on the day of reunion again.

Part 5 - Main Story

The three-month shooting is finally over.

Before the hottest day came, I quickly packed my luggage and returned to Loveland City.

As soon as I got out of the station, I immediately looked around, looking for Lucien's figure.

The moment I dragged the box in the crowd, a familiar call suddenly came from my ear.

??: MC!

I turned my head and saw Lucien standing outside the security line of the station, his eyes gazed deeply on me.

MC: Lucien!

MC: Excuse me, please let me-

I dragged my luggage around the crowd, and ran towards him. Seeing Lucien, I rushing towards him, I simply let go of the luggage and jumped into his arms.

Lucien: .... Be careful.

Lucien warned me like this, but his arm had already hugged me tightly.

Rarely, he didn't lean over to hug me and carried almost all of my weight in his arms. I had to stand on tiptoe so I could barely touch the ground.

There was a slight suffocation in the chest, and none of us willing to let go.

MC: Lucien... I miss you so much.

Lucien: I miss you too.

A low breathing sound came from my ear, Lucien let go of me a little bit, his fingertips slid from the top of my head to my shoulders, followed by his eyes inch by inch.

Lucien: Our big producer seems to be tanned, tired and thin.

MC: Really?

I also raised my hand and stroked Lucien's cheek, rubbing it with affection.

MC: Our Professor Lucien has also lost a lot.

MC: It seems that I have to eat more delicious supplements these days!

Lucien smiled and nodded, and pulled the two luggage behind me.

Lucien: Then let's go home.

MC: Well, this time I really "go home"!

After returning to my home after a long absence, looking at the familiar furnishings, I finally let go of the tension that had been in the past few days.

Tired from the long journey, I quickly changed my clothes, walked into the room and opened the curtains, and at a glance I saw the flowers that Lucien kept on the windowsill.

It is a new variety that has never been seen before, and it is still in full bloom.

Lucien walked up to me and was slightly taken aback at the scene on the balcony.

Lucien: ... It seems to be brighter than I imagine.

MC: Imagine?

[DO YOU WANT ME TO CUT 1 KILOGRAM OF ONIONS??!]

Lucien's eyes flickered. I thought maybe he didn't know much about flower arrangements, so I volunteered to pick up an empty vase.

MC: It’s okay, just a little adjustment.

I picked a few flowers of similar color from a few bunches of flowers, trimmed them briefly, and put them in the empty vase again.

MC: Look, is this better?

Lucien: It looks a lot better.

Lucien: Before, I just followed the maintenance instructions to raise it, but it turned out that it needed to be adjusted like this.

MC: The most important thing is to keep the flowers well, I just add a little ornamental.

Lucien: In order to make flowers and people happy, it is best for us to raise them together.

Lucien: If you raise it next time, can you please help me arrange the flowers?

MC: Of course, it's on me!

I raised my head confidently, Lucien rubbed my hair with a smile.

Lucien: In return, I have a small gift for you.

Lucien turned around, picked up a small box from the coffee table and handed it to me, opened the box and there was a lipstick inside. The authentic rose red reminds me of the handwriting printed on the transparent umbrella on that rainy night.

Lucien: Choosing lipstick for the first time, I don't know if you like it.

MC: It looks so beautiful...Why would you think of buying lipstick?

Lucien: I just think this one should suit you well.

Lucien: Want to try it?

MC: Yes!

I picked up the mirror on the table and was about to turn the mouth red, and suddenly met Lucien's gaze from the mirror.

MC: You, why are you looking at me all the time.

Lucien: Can't I watch it?

MC: Not really, just a little embarrassed...

I turned around while I was talking, only to find that he was still looking at me in good time.

MC: .... Lucien!

He was amused by the way I was bulging. He seemed to think a little bit, and came over to take the mirror from my hand.

Lucien: Sorry, it's been a long time since I looked at you like this, I really don't want to miss any of your expressions.

Lucien: But if you are not used to it, I have a compromise.

Lucien: I'll help you put it on, how about it?

This fresh proposal made my eyes bright, and I quickly turned to face him.

MC: Okay, I won’t miss any of Professor Lucien’s special offer!

MC: But did you even know this...

Lucien: I'm not that good, and I may need you to be a "guinea pig."

Lucien: But I will try to be careful.

MC: It doesn't matter, Professor Lucien's "fault tolerance" here is very high.

Lucien: It seems that this is a special treatment for me.

Lucien: Come, sit by my side.

Lucien took me to sit on the sofa, tucked the hair beside my face behind my ears, and then focused on the lipstick.

He opened the lid skillfully, and squeezed it unnaturally

His gaze rested on my lips for a while, and I opened my mouth slightly in cooperation before he made the first stroke.

The moisturizing paste pushed against the lower lip, Lucien lifted my chin unconsciously, extending the color stroke by stroke.

His movements were very light, I was a little itchy, and was blocked by him, so I couldn't move, so I kept blinking and looking around.

Lucien seemed to have not noticed my struggle, so he put on lipstick slowly and didn't forget to look around, as if admiring his own work.

Lucien: This color really suits you, and looks better than I imagine.

MC: Is it "imagination" again?

Lucien: ,After all, it is a gift for you. Since I bought it, I have been imagining the way you put it on.

Lucien: Now, I can finally see it with my own eyes.

Lucien's fingertips gently rubbed along the edge of my lower lip, as if tracing its shape.

I caught a glimpse of the flowers behind him, and my heart trembled slightly.

I don't know how Lucien faced his longing, maybe it was a short daze interspersed with his busy work, maybe it was a "wish" in my heart...

I didn't deliberately think about it, but I felt that it was like a shadow.

I gently held his face and looked at him seriously.

MC: Lucien, now I am back.

MC: Whatever you think of or what you want me to do, you can tell me directly.

MC: After all, during this time, I have also accumulated a lot of wishes about you...

MC: Just as we "compensate" each other!

Lucien looked at me in silence for a while, and finally raised the corners of his mouth.

Lucien: Since I got my wish just now, now it's your turn.

Lucien: What do you want me to "compensate" for you?

I spread out Lucien's hands, seeing that there was still the lipstick that he had just rubbed off on his fingers.

I suddenly realized that it is precisely because there is no barrier at the moment that we can directly leave marks on each other.

And the long separation that I experienced made me want to be more greedy at this moment, leaving more proof of existence around each other.

I followed my heart to stood up and kissed his lips.

Lucien: ...

The newly applied lipstick rubbed against the corners of his lips, like a small blooming flower, dotted on his fair skin.

This color is really beautiful.

MC: If I want this kind of compensation... is that okay?

Lucien met my gaze, raised his hand and rubbed the corner of his lips, and suddenly laughed.

Lucien: Of course you can.

He hugged me up and let me sit on his lap.

Sunlight spreads on us through the gauze curtain, adding warmth to the narrow distance.

Lucien: I thought before that you might need to adjust to your original life for a while... Lucien: Now it seems that I am the one who has been worrying too much.

I took the lipstick from his hand and made a few letters out of thin air.

MC: Remember the "pathos" we talked about before?

Lucien: Yes, I remember.

MC: Later, I read the book carefully and found that there are actually two kinds of misses described by this word.

Not only do I miss the other person when we are separated, but even if the other person is right in front of me, I still long for him.

MC: So, although we are not in the same place in the past few months...

MC: But to me, I never felt separated from you.

Lucien raised his head slightly and looked at me, his eyes seemed to be filled with shards of light.

Lucien: So, even if I am a little greedy now, is it okay?

MC: It’s okay.

Lucien: I not only want to see unique colors, but I also want to leave colors related to me in it.

Lucien: Is it okay?

He took my shoulders and seemed to draw something on my shoulders with his fingertips.

I lowered my head and looked over. The little red he rubbed with his fingertips just now was drawing another "flower" on my shoulder.

MC: Of course, after all... this color suits me very well.

Lucien stared at me deeply, his gaze slowly sliding from my eyes to my lips.

In the drenched sunlight, he held my face and dropped a feather-like kiss on my lips. The soft touch feels like a kind of gentle comfort, which makes me fall into it bit by bit.

I closed my eyes and felt him pull my chin slightly. I opened my mouth slightly, and his breath quickly swept through my perception.

The jaw was clamped by him, and a slight pain melted into the hot breath, which made the kiss look a little eager.

I put my arms around the back of his neck and responded carefully, the pain quickly dissipated, and he asked for it even more with burning sensation.

The faint scent of rouge faints between the lips, I don't know if it comes from the lipstick on his lips or mine.

The shoulders were gradually clasped by him, and the cold air from the air conditioner came in through his fingers and was warmed by his palm.

Every skin that touches him is conveying pleasant sensations. I keep my eyes closed, but my eyes are full of brilliance.

The wet and rainy season that I have just spent alone is all illuminated by the snuggle at this time.

I don't know how long it took, the temperature on my lips slowly faded, I opened my eyes and saw a mess of rose red on Lucien's lips.

MC: Lucien, the lipstick--

Lucien: It's all spent.

We reached out to each other at the same time, trying to wipe off the fainted lipstick. But no matter how you rub it, it will leave a shallow trace.

We looked at each other in embarrassment and couldn't help laughing together.

MC: What to do.. am I ugly now?

Lucien: No, it's cute.

The eyes of the person in front of me are like water, and the sunlight seems to have washed away the complexities in these eyes, showing a bit of pure satisfaction.

Lucien embraced me again and stroked my hot cheek patiently.

Lucien: Any other wishes?

MC: There are a lot more, I feel I can't finish it for several days.

Lucien: It doesn't matter, I will be with you for many days.

Lucien: Those missing seasons, let us make up for it together

Notes from me: I can’t helped but giggling and crying over this date. The writer really gave us how Lucien’s feelings towards MC. They will loved each other for sure, with any circumstances ahead them. My wish just, please give them a happy moment like flying kite maybe? Anyway, thanks for visiting my blog and always reading Lucien’s date, and give him love~ xoxo

#mlqc cn #mlqc #mlqc lucien #lucien #mlqc translations

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youarejesting · 4 years ago

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Sly like a...? Part 9

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 1.5k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

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Tonight you had decided to ask Hoseok what he wanted to eat for dinner. A quick knock on his always-open door and a peek inside showed him sitting on his bed. With his arms wrapped around his legs and his chin resting on his knees he looked young. He was staring forlornly at the wall, perhaps you thought he was feeling a little homesick. The city was much different from what he was used to.

“Hoseok, hey?” You sat beside him the scent of fresh pine on his warm-toned skin. Waving your hand within his line of sight in an effort to gain his attention. The deer blinked, giving you a bright smile and a cheery laugh.

“Sorry, I was lost in thought?” He straightened out his legs. You patted the soft comforter in front of you.

“Shuffle your butt over here,” you spoke softly. He continued to face the wall and shuffled over, you pulled him to lay back against you, “Are you feeling homesick honey?”

“Yeah, I guess I miss nature. It’s just, it’s so bare” he muttered looking around his room, a desk with a laptop, a bed, and bedside tables he sniffed wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “I miss it.”

“How about we get you some plants as many as you want, to fill the room, if you really want we can tear up the carpet and lay down grass instead,” Hoseok laughed as you described a tall plant by his desk flowers on his bedside tables and hanging pots from the ceiling. “You can call them, that’s why I got you this,”

He nodded taking the phone you held out to him, he dialed a number and placed it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hello my sister,” he said, relaxing as he heard the familiar voice.

“Hobi!” She called through the phone, which seemed to cause a commotion on the other end of the phone as many voices could be heard, “what is it like in the city? Are they treating you nicely? Have you been eating?”

“It’s really nice and everyone is so fun and nice and we eat lots of food together,” he cheered. The family was talking happily and you grinned scratching Hoseok's head happily laughing with him.

“We are going to decorate his room with plants,” you assured his family that he was being treated well, “oh! tonight is your choice for dinner so what would you like?”

“Unnie, Hobi likes Japchae and meat,” his sister giggled over the phone and you leaned around Hoseok and grinned.

“What you think Hobi-ah? Sounds good?” You used their nickname teasingly but in hopes, he would feel more at home and at ease around you.

“Mm, Hobi wants japchae!” He said cutely, making you laugh, you gently pushed his firm and warm body until he was sitting up enough to slip out from behind him.

“Alright, you keep talking I will round up Jin and Yoongi and we will get to work cooking,” bidding your goodbyes to Hoseok’s family, you headed out to the kitchen. Yoongi was tying up his apron and Jin was playing video games with the youngest of the group.

You decided against asking Jin as he seemed truly engrossed in playing his video games. Sorting out ingredients and finding a recipe Yoongi and yourself shuffled around the kitchen. There were moments where you reached over where he was cutting vegetables and your shoulders would brushed and just for a second you would hear a small purr.

Jin lost to Jungkook and pouted, scuffing his slippers as he entered the kitchen, “Ya! The game likes Jungkook better!” He whined, with a grin on your face you pulled him into a hug. Arms wrapping around his tiny waist as you buried your face in the soft sweater he was wearing, it smelt sweet like figs and his ears twitched.

“I am just happy you tried your best,” you praised him, as you felt the vibrating chittering in his chest almost like a purr but more like a rattle. He nuzzled your hair breathing in your scent. You got him to join in with the cooking. Your instructions interrupted by Taehyung who was complaining about being hungry.

Sliding between the two hybrids to get past, you got some ingredients from the fridge. You sat at the breakfast bar mixing the ingredients in a big metal bowl. Taehyung had been your neighbor for at least five years now and you knew his favorite foods.

“Try this and tell me how it is?” you held a ball of rice out in a plastic gloved hand and he leaned in eating it. His eyes lighting up. He gave a deep mmh-mm of approval and his tail was smacking Jungkook in the thigh, the young boy looking at the offending appendage and swatted it away.

“Me too, noona” He smiled pointing to his mouth and you popped one of the Jumeokbap onto his tongue. He chewed it happily his cheeks puffed full, a purr filling the room loudly. You turned to Jin offering him a taste, he praised it with a thumbs up.

Carrying the bowl around to Yoongi you smiled, “You want to try one Yoongi?” He didn’t reply but leaned his head towards you eyes on the food mouth opened.

He let you put one in his mouth, and you pressed your ear to Yoongi’s shoulder, his purrs were definitely the quietest out of all the felines in the house, they were ones that vibrated deeply in his chest but didn’t make too much noise unless it was really quiet and you listened intently.

“I smell tuna!” Jimin grinned bounding over his long legs barely touched the ground and he smiled, “Me love, one for me”

You were trying to roll one but he had started rubbing his face on your jaw and neck impatiently, as he purred sweetly, “I am making it as fast as I can,” the words barely came out through your giggles his soft hair tickling your neck, his ears twitching at the sound.

“Here try this one,” he leaned in wrapping his mouth around the rice ball his eyes never leaving yours. “Is it good?”

“Mm very good” he hummed standing behind you his hands wrapped around your waist as you made one for Namjoon. He held out his hand and ate it, nodding before awkwardly shuffling around waiting for the food to finish. Hoseok exited his room smiling brightly, it seemed the conversation with his family had eased his loneliness.

Namjoon at dinner was a little scary all he could see was food and his deep purrs were so loud that it almost sounded like thunder rumbling outside. You brought up the question at dinner and watched them all choke on their food.

“It is only natural, I am just wondering when and if you know your rut schedule so I can put it on the calendar and if you need any assistance during this time we can look for a suitable companion or items that can relief your needs.”

Jungkook was bright red and Jimin thought honestly, “I don’t need assistance but if when I am not in my room we could cuddle,”

“I also do not require assitance I will just be in my room,” Namjoon said with a small reassuring smile.

“I have never had a rut,” Jungkook said his cheeks never losing their rosey colour, “They gave us a hormone blocker every six months so we would behave, we just got really annoyed”

You nodded they all seemed to agree that they would be fine on their own in their room but you thought you would look into somethings as a fail safe. After your goodnights to each of the boys giving them a sweet kiss on their foreheads, you sat on Jungkook’s bed and told him more of the stories of the fox.

“In Korean legends, the Kumiho is often described as a terrifying and sad creature that strives to become a real human. It is said that a Kumiho can turn into a real human by eating 100 human livers or by marrying a human and living with them for 100 days without their true identity being discovered. There are many more theories on how they came to be but they…”

Once everyone was tucked in, you spent the night in the lounge. Searching the web for eligible companions and items that could assist the seven young men. You hoped they were all settling in nicely. A figure appeared in the hall, ringing his tail in his hands, you gave a soft smile, surprised as the figure came closer.

It wasn’t Jimin as you had first thought, it was Jungkook, you walked him back to bed and he whispered, “I am nervous what if I do something bad during my rut?”

“I know your true nature Jungkook, I know you don’t want to hurt any of the boys or even myself and when the rut passes well then you will be back to the old Koo we know and love.”

“Can you sleep in my room tonight?” He said and seeing your apprehension he added, “Just until I fall asleep?”

“Alright just until you fall asleep.” Not knowing how exhausted you were and how the bed was so soft and enticing. You had fallen asleep almost instantly, letting Jungkook pull you into his arms and nuzzle your shoulder.

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Tags: @simplymemyself @lolsiiike @min2jeon @notruercolors @luvaffaire @grazysf @ella-mella @lustremyg @sonnymii @moments-of-melancholy @calling-dips-on-j-hope @jiminiessipabo @staerryminimini @afangirl91 @halfway-insane (please make sure you have tagging setting on so you get notified when the story updates)

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xneens · 4 years ago

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thank u, next (ft. loki)

Warnings: angst, swearing, jealousy, mentions of sex

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: A new team member in the group shakes things up for the super soldier.

Or: In which Steve casts you aside for a Carter only to regret his decision when he sees you with the God of Mischief.

"Yeet."

Swiveling your chair, you saw the empty pint of ice cream hit garbage can, bouncing off the rim and dropping on the floor with a light thump. You looked at Tony, shaking your head. "You've been hanging out with Peter too much."

"Why, thank you." Tony replied, smirking at you. "So, tell me, you sexy vixen, how do you feel with Thor bringing Loki? You were quiet during the whole argument that almost ended with Barton ripping out his eye."

You shrugged, the heels Tony had bought earlier drawing your attention to your feet. "I'm fine. I don't really care, I mean, I wasn't with you guys when New York happened so I don't really think I get to have an opinion about whether the mind-controlled God of Lies gets a spot in the team."

"You realize your on the team, right? I'm pretty sure your opinion matters especially with the mass murderer joining." Tony replied, accidentally hitting himself with the candy cane in his hands. "I really thought you were going to side with Cap on this one. You always do."

It wasn't a secret that Steve Rogers wasn't completely on board with the plan. That was pushing it; in other words: Steve Rogers despised the plan. If he could kill it, he would've. When Thor had proposed the plan to bring Loki on the team (a punishment from Odin himself)—trying to convince everyone he was "good" now—less than a handful had let him continue speaking. The rest wanted to riot. You had just sat there, a smirk on your face as you watched the six of them fight with each other while Fury shook his head, looking like a disappointed father.

When everyone had came to an agreement on Loki's trial period, there had been pages of rules on what he was restricted on doing including magic and stabbing. Of course, it was very specific so even the God of Mischief couldn't find a loophole. Maybe he could if he tried, which he probably will.

Clicking your tongue, you shrugged, ignoring the little pang in your chest. "Not on this. I'm smart enough to see that there's more reward than risk to have Loki on the team. For example: he's not bad to look at."

Tony choked on his candy cane, coughing up a large piece. With wide eyes, he studied you in silence, trying to figure out if you had been joking. "Are you serious? We should bring you to Helen so you can get your head checked. There's a chance you might have a concussion from the last mission."

"You have eyes, you can see how regal he is despite not genuinely being born royal. And those cheekbones..." you trailed off, biting your lip at Loki's handsome features. Tony raised an eyebrow, slowly shaking his head. "Not that his perfect bone structure justifies all the people he's killed. I'm just very observant being an avenger and all."

"Uh-huh, yeah, yeah, yeah, sure." Tony mumbled, leaning back on his chair, his eyes narrowing after your confession. "Ms. Natalia Romanoff didn't get the chance to tell me what happened between you and old Capsicle."

Rolling your eyes, you spun around in your chair, facing away from the nosy billionaire. "There's not that much to tell. We talked, we liked each other, then the sun came up and reality set in as the form of Sharon Carter. It didn't take long for him to ditch me to go for Peggy's niece. Anyways, been there, done that. People change."

"You're not the same girl I met." Tony stated. "On that note, Rogers' old brain is still defrosting and he's getting older so I don't think he knows how stupid he is...yet."

"And I'm not going to wait for him to find out." you muttered, a loud sound coming from the big yard. Looking through the garage window, you saw the blinding light before two figures in different colored capes appeared, the blinding light ruining the fresh-cut grass. Beaming at Tony, you got up. "Want to plan a party with me?"

"You say that like I'd have the ability to say no. Tonight?" Tony replied, grinning at thought of loud electronic dance music and booze.

Getting up, the stilettos clicked on the floor, your perfect pedicure peeking through the hole. Smiling, you walked towards the door. "Well, we are in the presence of two Gods. I think it's only fair we celebrate like it."

"I'm putting Party in the USA on the track-list!"

Rushing to the lawn where the rest of the team gathered, your mood was lightened by the sight of the golden haired retriever in disguised as a jacked God. Ignoring the others, you threw yourself at Thor, the God of Thunder catching you, arms tightening around your body. You let out a breathless laugh, momentarily forgetting your idiotic plan to avoid Steve. "Thor!"

Thor guffawed, lifting you off the ground, shouting your name in glee before letting you breathe again. "My favorite avenger! Miss me?"

"Duh." you responded, glancing at Loki, who had magically changed into an all-black suit, his shoulder length raven-colored hair slicked back. His eyes narrowed slightly at the team who had defeated him. He looked even better in person. "So, that's Loki."

Natasha spoke up before either Asgardian could. She stepped closer, observing him with you. "Not sure. He isn't as smug as before—"

"And he's missing those horrendous reindeer horns he was wearing." Clint chimed in, crossing his arms. His hate for Loki—which had increased when he found out the man who once controlled him was coming to the team—was almost as deep as Steve's. "He looks like a witch in that black suit."

Thor snickered, releasing Loki from the handcuffs that held him. "As you all know, my adopted brother's punishment from Father is to help Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Loki understands all the rules, and he will so follow them accordingly. Isn't that right, brother?"

Loki rolled his eyes, sighing before reluctantly nodding. "Yes, I will."

"Let me make this clear, Loki." Steve stepped up, Sharon right behind him, face composed. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at the couple. "If you break one rule, no matter how small, you will be sent back to Asgard and face Odin's alternate punishment. Just so you're clear, we won't hesitate to send you back."

The God of Mischief smirked, feeling smug knowing he could push the super soldier's buttons. "Of course, Captain. I wouldn't dream of breaking the rules enforced."

Everyone could sense the sarcasm and mockery in his voice, all of them tensing. Thor sighed, clapping his brother on the back, the force making Loki take a steps forward. "Come on, brother. I'll show you your quarters before you get punched by Lady Natasha."

Without waiting for Loki to answer, Thor practically pulled Loki's arm off, pulling him towards the building, crossing the ruined lawn that Tony would bitch about later. Everyone followed them, staying a few feet back, wary of the new team member. You noticed Steve stealing glances at you, quickly moving away from Sharon's side and made his way to you.

Without being too obvious, you squeezed your way between Bruce and Natasha, snaking your arms between there's, hoping it would give Steve the impression not to talk to you. Ever. Natasha threw you a sympathetic smile, squeezing your wrist while Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

Thor continued talking about the new compound, leading his brother to the entrance while pointing out installments that would've seemed impressive to a simple "midgardian."

He might've unconsciously murdered people but he kinda thicc.

At that exact moment, Loki turned around, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. His smirk grew, glancing between you and Steve before turning back. It had been so quick that you weren't sure it even happened. The group scattered as soon as they stepped a foot inside; Bruce heading to the lab, Steve following him while Sharon split and headed up to Medbay, Natasha hitting the gym with Clint, leaving you alone with Thor and Loki.

Unfortunately, Thor's room had been across yours, the empty room next to yours becoming Loki's so both a spy and a god could keep an eye on the trickster. Both Tony and Steve had fought on that, Steve concerned about your safety while Tony argued back, telling him you could keep yourself safe. If not, Thor was there. That had angered you; Steve didn't think you were capable of fighting off Loki if it came to it, and that made you roll your eyes at him, exiting the room.

"...and this will be your quarters. Decorate it any way you want, just no magic." Thor continued, reaching the area of your rooms. It was a big arc, the area looking like a semi-circle with three doors spaced evenly out. "My chambers is across Lady Y/N's, so we won't have any problems. She's a smart one, brother. Anything else to add, Sunshine?"

You ignored the nickname, eyes narrowing at the black-suited man. "There's a party tonight 'celebrating' the addition to the team. It starts at 8 so don't be late or else Tony will have your head. Also, if you wake me up before seven in the morning, watch your back 'cause I hold grudges."

Giving Thor a smile, you head to your room, closing the door with a sigh. On the other side, you heard Loki chuckle once. "I like her."

"She's serious. She almost ripped my heart out the one time I accidentally woke her from her slumber." Thor added, the clap on his brother's back loud. "Get ready for the party, Loki."

Loki had been forced in his room by his brother, the door closing after him. He listened carefully, hearing you plop on your bed. He bit back a smirk, a plan unfolding in his brain. With a swift gesture of a finger, the room had been decorated, the hideous white theme changing into an exact copy of Loki's bedroom in Asgard.

The day went by fast as you wasted it away planning the party with Tony, who had, in no way, helped. You had ran off to your room once the people Tony had hired came, setting up everything in the main room. As you walked to the three-bedroom wing, you saw Steve rocking back and forth in front of your door, his hands in his pocket while Thor gushed about his flying hammer.

Relief washed over his face as soon as he spotted you, and you almost turned around, wishing you had gone to Natasha's room to get ready.

Steve called out your name, abruptly ending his conversation with Thor. As you walked closer, you could see the concern etched on his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Thor watched your reaction, your face fighting the urge to make a face at America's sweetheart. Maneuvering your body, you slid between the two men to get to your room. "I'm fun-fucking-tastic. Thor, remind Loki about the party. I didn't spend the whole day with Tony for Loki to miss his own party."

"I'll be there, darling." Loki chimed in, his head poking out of his bedroom. Everyone turned to look at him, seeing the not-so-subtle wink he gave you.

Ignoring Steve's clenched fists, you moved past them, entering your room. Before closing the door, you said, "Tony requests the presence of all three of you, by the way. There's no way you're getting out of this. See you at 8!"

With a sighed of relief, you closed the door in Steve's face, the loud slam cutting off whatever he was about to interject. He could talk to Sharon about whatever shit he was dealing with, the girl he chose. You were no longer someone he could vent to after the shit he pulled, leading you on before leaving for Sharon Carter. It was then that you came to the decision to not love so easily.

Getting ready for the party took longer than you thought it would, the hot shower burning your skin to the point your skin started to redden. Your mind wandered to Loki, curios about the wink. Maybe it was his way of messing with people, a loophole that had not been included in the agreement. Realizing how inappropriate it was to think about the God while showering, you quickly turned the water off and stepped out.

Knowing Natasha, she's be disappointed if you didn't dress up like your inner slut, the one that got fucked up in Tokyo, and the petty hoe who would do everything to make Steve Rogers regret his decision. Well, you weren't going to let your sestra down.

The sultry, tight red dress was almost too short to be considered decent. With it's low cropped top, your tits we're begging for attention, the bra non-existent. Your new motto: protect the city, free the titties. The matching red stilettos would've been a pain if you hadn't started wearing them so early in your life. You let your hair down, running hand through it before slapping some natural makeup on your face, trying not to look desperate for attention.

It was around 8:15 when you finally finished, already exhausted by the amount of work you had to put on for others, but mostly for yourself. Either Tony or Natasha would come barreling through your door if you were going to be any later. Rushing, you took a quick look in the mirror before opening your door, nearly bumping into the God of Mischief.

He was dressed in a black buttoned-downed dress shirt with matching dress pants. Like before, his hair was slicked back, the shoulder length, raven hair looking silky and sexy. You both eye each other, eyes appreciating the sight in front of them. It wasn't until you finally met his eyes that he cleared his throat, a smug smile covering half his face.

"Would you mind accompanying me to the party, Lady Y/N? My brother is an idiot and cannot give a proper tour with his minuscule organ that he calls a brain. As of that, I do not know where this celebration is held." Loki explained, holding out his arm, waiting for you to take it. He raised an eyebrow while you hesitated. "If not, I could just follow you and everyone would assume I'm planning to have your head."

"Jesus Christ, you and Thor are so fucking dramatic." you grumbled, taking Loki's arm, your arm snaking around his. "Must run in the family, huh?"

"I'm adopted."

"I don't care."

Loki darkly chuckled, feeling your warm body against his, letting himself grow closer, enough that he could feel more of you but not enough that you would've noticed. "I sincerely hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you look rather ravishing, darling."

"Have you ever thought of cutting your hair?" you replied, loving the way Loki's smug expression wavered—probably expecting a compliment—before composing himself. "You'd look less like Johnny Depp from Pirates of the Caribbean."

"I don't understand." Loki said, leading you towards the elevator. For someone who claimed they didn't know where they were headed, he had the sense of knowing where everything was.

You waved the pop culture reference away, pushing the elevator button. "You wouldn't. Is Thor already at the party?"

"I'm quite positive."

The rest of the walk to the main room was quiet, neither of you making small talk as you led him. More like, he led you. You were suspicious he had stayed back and faked not knowing the compound in order to mess with you. But you waved that thought away, focus on getting distracting yourself from Steve.

You could hear the party before seeing it, the big room had been half full, not too much, not too little, yet you had been surprised considering how extra Tony could be. Letting go of Loki's arm, you walked to the bar where Natasha was sipping a glass of whiskey, ignoring the rest of the party. She pulled out a bottle of gin as you arrived, raising an eyebrow at your accompanied date.

"Before you say anything, he didn't know where the party was so he asked me to guide him. Nicely if I might add." you said, pushing back the bottle, settling on a bottle of water instead.

Natasha smirked, watching Loki interact with his brother, a frown deepening on his face. "He knows where everything is, Thor gave him the whole tour while you were with Tony. Can't believe you took the bait."

"Ugh." you grumbled, wishing you could forget about tomorrow and drown your problems in alcohol but the last hangover nearly killed you.

"Stevie doesn't look to happy with you showing up with Loki." Natasha noticed, the smirk widening as she watched Steve's glare grew more lethal as Loki's grin got bigger. "This is so much better than America's Next Top Models fails. Do you wanna bet that one of them will punch the other before the party is over?"

"Daddy, chill." you mimicked, turning to see how enraged old Capsicle is. But with the blonde besides him, looking up him in both wonder and worry, he had no right to be angry at Loki for attending a party that had been thrown for him, despite the many people he murdered—while being controlled. "He can't seriously still be sour about Loki joining."

The redhead giggled, a little drunk from the amount of alcohol she already consumed. "I don't think that's what he's so broody about, not anymore at least. He was smiling until he saw you on Loki's arm."

"Ain't my fault he chose Peggy's niece over me, meaning he doesn't get to be jealous whether Loki is my date or a walker for these killer stilettos." you muttered, secretly loving and hating the jealousy that oozed out of Steve Rogers. Even his blonde date had noticed. "Look at these heels, aren't they gorgeous?"

"Almost as gorgeous as you." Natasha replied, winking just before she drowned the rest of her drink. She winced a little at the taste.

"How many of those have you had?" you wondered, eyeing the spy. After the worst hangover of both your lives, Natasha had made you swear to never let her get that drunk again. Although with the rate she was going, you feared you had been too late.

She shrugged, taking your bottle of water. "Four. Oh, look, here comes Steve."

Before you could ditch, Steve leaned against the counter, his blue buttoned down shirt matching his blue eyes. Natasha not-so-subtly walked to the other side of the bar, motioning for Bruce to keep her company, although knowing her, she'd listen to every word.

"Rogers," you greeted coldly, looking everywhere but him. He tensed at your cold greeting, the frown looking permanently pressed on his face. "Enjoying the party?"

"Yeah."

Lie.

"Good."

You sat there for a good two minutes before he cleared his throat, shifting his weight nervously from one foot onto the other. Steve coughed in his fist. "So...living near Loki isn't too much trouble, is it? He causing any trouble, yet?"

"Sweet as an angel." you replied sarcastically, wishing you were anywhere but here. Loki caught your eye, raising a hand to wave and the group that had been brave enough to be near him, gasped in shock, the noises audible across the room. Their reactions made you chuckle.

Steve cleared his throat, this time louder. "Would you like to dance?"

"Ask your girlfriend." you fired back, satisfied by the hurt on his face. After the stunt he pulled, leading you on only to stomp of your heart, you wanted to be selfish and make him suffer just a little bit. Thankful, Loki came to your rescue.

Ignoring Steve, he held out his arm once again, a smile playing on his lips as he took in the tense situation between you and Steve. But before he could utter a single word, Sharon decided it was the perfect time to come looking for Steve. She assessed the situation, awkwardly noting Loki's presence.

"Er, hello." Sharon said, standing in false bravery. She wouldn't admit it, but she was afraid of the God of Mischief.

Loki gave her a curt nod and held out a hand to you instead, easily fitting yours in his. He murmured your name, softly kissing your knuckles. "Would you like to dance? This is the first song that came on that has not made me want to tear my ears off."

"Why, yes, I would." you agreed with a grin, moving your body close to Loki as you reached the unofficial dance floor, everyone's eyes on the both of you, with shock and slight fear. You would've cackled at their reactions—and it looked like Loki wanted to, too—if you hadn't been raised with manners. "Thank you."

Loki raised an eyebrow, surprised by the words. "For what, if I may ask?"

"Saving me back there. I don't need that kind of drama in my life. Not anymore." you explained, drinking in the warmth of his arm wrapping around your waist as you both slowly swayed to the slow song.

The raven-haired God smiled—not the smug smirk he wore, but a genuine one that Thor hadn't seen his brother wear for a few years now. "My pleasure. A lady like you deserves someone who'll give her his undivided attention. Any suitor would be lucky to have a tenth of your attention."

A coping mechanism: you rolled your eyes but you couldn't help the small smile that forced itself on you lips. You bit it back, hoping no one had noticed.

Loki had. And he meant every word he said.

By the end of the night, you found yourself naked, against the wall and legs wrapped around Loki's waist. Lips crashed against one another, soft kisses trailing down necks, leaving little love marks that would surely be dark. But at the moment, you didn't care. Not when Loki whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he took you from behind, above, underneath, and even on the side. You had both been teasing each other at the party and now you had given in, no matter the consequences.

—

Annoyed Steve had missed the date he had asked you on, you walked up to his room, heels clicking. You had waited for him for over two hours, texted him and getting no replies, leaving the restaurant with the humiliation of being stood up.

But as you neared his door, you heard crying. But it wasn't Steve. Peeking inside, you saw Sharon. Pretty, talented Sharon. Her eyes were red, tears steaming down her cheeks while Steve hugged her shoulders, resting his chin on her head as he comforted her. Jealousy and hurt knocked the breath out of you.

You waited.

And waited.

And it happened. Leaning in slowly, he kissed her. Softly, like he had kissed you. And she kissed him back, finding comfort in the kiss.

Heart breaking in two, you left, leaving the door open. The couple broke their kiss long enough to see you walk away through the slit of the door. Steve hung just head, feeling terrible. But Sharon had helped him as he had. This time, they hadn't stopped at kissing, forgetting the girl who had her heart broken by the man who claimed he would never hurt her.

Steve knew it was over between you two, but he could focus his attention on caring as much as he wanted to when Sharon kept kissing him. He did try to apologize only to learn you had went to visit Thor in Asgard, leaving him to feel sorry for himself and his decisions. Yet, he still found temporary comfort in Sharon's arms.

—

You woke to the warmth of Loki's arms around you. Opening your eyes, you found yourself tangled limbs with the God of Lies, your hair a mess, a hand over his chest and a leg over his waist. Your cheek rested on the crook of his neck, fitting perfectly as if he was made for you.

"Good morning." Loki whispered, stroking your hair with one hand, the other softly massaging your thigh. "Sleep well?"

Nuzzling into his neck, you snorted at the irony. "Don't know, considering we didn't do much sleeping."

Loki chuckled, pressing a soft kiss on your head. "Touché. It would only be fair of me to apologize for the love marks I left on your soft skin last night. Forgive me but I could not help myself."

Gasping, you jumped up, looking at the vanity mirror across your bed to find your collarbone, neck, and the top of your breast covered in Loki's hickeys. He looked rather proud of himself than sorry. "Loki!"

"Please note my apologies are genuine when they are directed towards you. Although, I have to admit, I'm quite proud of myself. It's my best art." Loki announced, bringing himself up on his elbows, eyes ravaging your naked flesh, littered with his marks.

Noticing the difference between your bodies, you quickly turned around to see the reflections had been right; Loki's body remained unmarked. "I swear to god I left hickeys and bite marks all over you last night."

"You tried but got rather mad when my skin healed itself." Loki explained, pulling you back in his warm arms. The soft gesture surprised you, the whole situation coming into light. You had slept with Thor's murderous brother. Loki read your thoughts. "Don't be like that, love. What what I can remember, you enjoyed yourself last night quite immensely. If it will make you feel better, I can show all the love bites you made the night before."

Thankful you hadn't drank anything last night, you had been so happy to not wake up with a hangover and Loki. Turning to face him, you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

With a smirk, his chest gleamed green for a second before it uncovered layers and layers of hickeys, and reddening bite marks. It was identical to yours. You gasped in shocked while Loki stared at you in amusement, his arms tightening. "You did a little bit of damage. I'm proud."

"Holy shit—" you were cut off by Thor and Steve bursting into your room, the sudden motion making you cover up your naked chest with a shriek. The two men's jaws dropped as they took in the scene, Loki's bare chest covered with the evidence from last night, his arms wrapped around you while you stared at them with wide eyes. "Knock, goddamnit!"

Both of them stood in silence, their brains not processing what was in front of them. Steve's eyes had mirrored yours from when you caught him kissing Sharon, eyes watering, you could see his heart breaking just by making eye contact. But at that moment, you couldn't find yourself to care, not with Loki's arms around you.

"What—" Thor began.

Loki smirked, kissing your bare shoulder. "Hello, brother."

next >

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #loki #loki x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x sharon carter #marvel #captain america #angst #jealousy #chris evans x reader

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lumosinlove · 4 years ago

Text

Previously On Relic Keel:

Remus, Saint, Sirius, Leo, and Logan have woken Luke in the dead of night and convinced in to take them into his father’s study to look for the treasure map he had supposedly taken out on loan before he was sent to jail. They explain to Luke what they need, but Luke has no knowledge of it. Tensions are high when Saint finds a hidden safe behind a frame and opens it to reveal an envelope addressed to Luke in his father’s handwriting. They only get higher when Logan snatches it from Luke’s hands and uses it as leverage to convince Saint to help him break Finn out of Saint Clair. Saint agrees and Luke is left alone with his father’s letter, and the memories of talking about the treasure with his father before he was taken away.

We meet Remus the next morning on the docks, ready for his morning sail, only to find Sirius waiting there for him. Sirius agrees to go sailing with him. It’s a little awkward, and Remus can’t stop wondering about Sirius and Saint’s relationship. As they ride the wind and waves together, some of the wariness is relieved and Remus learns how Saint escaped from Saint Clair: an accident. Sirius doesn’t know how he plans to do it again.

And Saint won’t tell him. Sirius has to follow him to the orphanage in order to get Saint to let him help. It turns out Saint plans to climb down the chimney and then exit the doors from within, just like last time.

Before we can see if he pulls it off, we go to Marlene and Dorcas. Marlene finally tells Dorcas that she got into college, at Berkeley. Dorcas is supportive of her girlfriend, promising that they’ll figure this out.

We go back to Sirius and Saint who make it into Saint Clair safely. We learn that Saint didn’t let Logan come because, if it went wrong, they needed someone on the outside who knew Saint Clair well. Saint gets cut on his way down the chimney, but is otherwise okay—except for the memories. Saint Clair brings back feelings of the Crucio-ridden dreams, and feeling out of place. Saint has always felt out of place—In the world, in his own skin. He hopes to find files on his mother, but they are locked up. We learn Saint’s real name is Sebastian, and that he hates it. They find Finn in solitary and get him out safely, though he is weak from not eating and from Crucio.

Logan is waiting nervously with Leo. Leo wishes Logan would have told him he was going to threaten Luke like that. Logan feels guilty, but there’s a sadness of missing someone that they share, only Logan is getting the person he misses back. Leo says that they can stay with him, when Finn arrives, if they want to. Logan realizes that he thinks of Leo as home.

Luke is sitting alone, having opened his father’s letter. There are only two words, a name: Pascal Dumais. He’s surprised to find Saint resting on his window sill, having climbed to his room once again—and hurt. Luke cleans his wounds and asks Saint why he came here instead of going home to Sirius and his other friends. Saint says it’s because Sirius will just want to talk about what happened and because Luke is mean, because Luke is what he expects him to be. Luke also learns that Saint knows exactly who Pascal Dumais is.

***cw: mentions of drugs and addiction, mentions of drugs used medicinally, mentions of hurricanes, mentions of grief and death******

part viii

Lily knew she would probably miss dinners at Gryffindor Club when she went away to school. She knew that she would miss her family—even Petunia. She raised her iced tea to her mouth and looked around their small table, the one they almost always sat at. It was like each family had an assigned seat, just as each student did in class. This who island was one of assignments. Neighborhood. Job. Partner. Everyone seemed to expect her and James to be together.

She wanted that, too—quietly. But not like this. Not with an assigned table.

Not, when James and his parents walked through the clubhouse doors, she could have predicted it to the very second. Clockwork, she remembered saying to James. This island ran like clockwork, and sometimes she felt like she was skidding across the watch’s face.

The hostess greeted the Potters as everyone did on the island. A hug, a laugh. Everyone loved them. James looked flushed and fresh out of the shower, dark hair curling into its usual wild self as it dried, his button-down snug around his shoulders.

“You’re hopeless,” Petunia said from beside her.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Shush.”

James hadn’t quite seen her yet, but if she knew where to look, where his table was, he knew where her’s was, too. When their eyes met, a smile crossed James’ face like a race, like Lily had seen him fly up a lacrosse field—and then it tripped. He caught himself in his happiness, and Lily’s heart caught with him.

He sent her a small wave, and then turned and sat down between his parents, his back towards her. That wasn’t his fault, all the tables angled towards the ocean, but it felt like he was looking away from her.

She looked back down at her dinner and tried to focus on what her father was saying, but it was difficult. While their entrees were being taken away, James made his mother laugh. While they ate dessert, he got that exasperated set in his shoulders that he did when college came up and his father patted a soothing hand on his back. When Lily and her family’s chairs scraped as they got up to leave, James turned around and rose, too. There were pieces of cake in front of his parents, but nothing in front of him. He walked over to her and greeted her parents kindly, said hello to Petunia, and then looked at Lily. His hair was completely wild again, and his hands were in his pockets.

“Want to hang out?” he asked.

“Oh, is that what it’s called these days?” Petunia grumbled, and Lily’s mother sent her a look. Lily just nodded.

“Sure,” she turned to her parents. “See you guys at home.”

“Don’t be out too late,” her father said.

“Dad, it’s summer.”

“Still,” Mr. Evans laughed as he held the door open for his wife and daughter.

“Do you want to go to the field?” James asked as they turned the other way, towards the open balcony doors—the same direction Lily had lead them the night she’d refused him. “I bet we could sneak some wine from the cellar.”

Lily smiled. “You better choose a good one.”

Olli, working at the bar, turned a blind eye to their not so careful sneaking down and up the kitchen stairs. James hadn’t looked too carefully at what he chose, but Lily didn’t mind.

“Did Luke ever get his car back?” she asked as they walked across the grass, Hogwarts Academy looming up in the dark in front of them.

James turned to her. “Oh man, no one told you?”

“Told me what?”

James blew out a breath, laughing and raising the bottle. “We better open this first.”

They settled in the very middle of the lacrosse field, just over the Hogwarts Castles’ logo, and James pulled the cork. They traded the bottle back and forth as James told her about the Voldemort, a tale they’d grown up with, and about Saint Clair and the breakout, and about Luke and his father.

“Pascal Dumais,” Lily repeated. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“Me neither,” James said, taking a sip. “But apparently Sirius and Saint know him. And Luke’s father, I guess.”

“How is Luke?” Lily asked. “Marls always says she can’t really tell. And then there’s the…”

James nodded and he swallowed, picking at the grass. “Crucio. I know. I tried to help, but I guess he’s still…He’s just so angry.”

“I don’t understand why though, with the Crucio, I mean. You know? Doesn’t it just…make you relive things? Why would you want to just keep reliving the same thing over and over again?”

James glanced at her, hazel eyes careful. “To change it? Or to hope that it might change?”

Lily felt herself flush, with the wine, and beneath his gaze. She hadn’t meant it like that, but she supposed that was what they were doing. Lily didn’t know what she would change, though. The island? James? Herself?

“Do you…” James began quietly, and when Lily looked over at him, he was still looking down. The high moon caught the curve of his jaw, the glint of his glasses. “Do you think about it?”

The question made Lily feel like all the field lights had come on at once, striking her and baring her to the world. He didn’t have to explain. Lily knew he was talking about that night. Their night. Lily looked back at the sky and closed her eyes. James’ hands had been warm, dipping between her legs, cupping the small of her back when she’d arched against him. He’d smiled into their kisses, like he couldn’t help it, until he couldn’t anymore, until her heat had made his mouth slip open, until she’d wrapped him up against her so tightly there was nothing to think about but never parting. It had been quick. Neither of them really knew what they were doing. But it had been perfect. Intoxicating.

“Of course I do,” Lily whispered.

“Sometimes I can’t stop thinking about it,” James replied, and it brought a thrill to Lily’s fingertips, adrenaline to her gut.

She thought of him, alone at night in his bed, unable to stop thinking about it. She knew she couldn’t sometimes, either.

“Not it,” he added, eyes still raised towards the stars. “You.”

You, Lily’s mind repeated. Him. Those smiles. James’ smiles. The way he blatantly asked for what he wanted, asked what she wanted. The way he’d knock on her door and they’d spend entire days together—the way they’d been doing that since they were ten. James had tried to teach her lacrosse, she’d tried to teach him how to knit. James used to come on the floaty that trailed behind their speedboat with her, when she was younger and never wanted to go alone. It had been both expected and surprising the first time they’d kissed—sixteen and awkward. She’d laughed it off and cried about it to Marlene later, unsure why she was crying.

You. I can’t stop thinking about you.

“I thought you wanted to stay in…in whatever space we’re in,” Lily whispered back.

“I thought you didn’t like the space we’re in,” James replied. “I want…Fuck,” he laughed a little. “Isn’t the whole point not to know everything right now? Isn’t what you want not to know everything? To get outside of this circuit? So, can’t we just…”

“James, this circuit is your life.”

“Stop telling me that,” James urged. “I have…” he ran a hand over his face, and there was real distress there, way beyond the two of them. “I have no idea what my life is.”

Lily reached out, brows drawn together, and put a hand on his shoulder. He was warm through his shirt. “J…”

“I don’t need to know,” James said and when he looked up at her, he looked pained. He took his glasses off, rubbed at his eyes again. “I don’t need to know. Do I?”

“No, of course not, I’m sorry,” Lily whispered. Her hand moved to his neck, thumb stroking softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

He kept his head down and let Lily tangle her fingers in the soft hair at the base of his neck. Lily put her head on his shoulder. She felt James relax a little, felt his arm wind around her waist and his mouth press into her hair.

“Let’s just…not know for a little while?” he whispered, and she nodded, pressing closer.

Grimmauld place was wild and open, Logan thought, lying beside Finn. As he brushed Finn’s hair away from his face, he liked that the first thing Finn would feel when he woke up was the ocean breeze on his face, that the first thing he would smell was the salt and the sun.

Some books, piled up beside the bed, served as a place for a waiting glass of water and toast with butter and honey. Easy on his stomach, Leo had said when he’d dropped it off, along with some more filling foods for later, which were waiting in the refrigerator. Logan had wanted to ask him to stay, but Leo was going to work. Leo didn’t—Leo didn’t even know Finn. Logan didn’t know why he wanted Leo to stay.

Saint and Sirius had both come in at various moments in the early morning, as had Dorcas, but Logan was only dimly aware of their presence. Now, the sun was turning the morning warm, and Finn was beginning to stir beneath Logan’s touch. Logan propped himself up on his forearm, heart beating hard.

“Finn?” he whispered as Finn breathed in slowly—the easy, long breath of waking up.

“Finn,” Logan whispered again, palm on his cheek.

Finn turned into Logan’s hand and opened his eyes. Those brown eyes that Logan’s subconscious, that the Crucio, had never gotten quite right. Finn blinked heavily a few times and Logan held his breath, trying to reel the relief that welled in his chest. He wanted to throw himself onto Finn, crush them together—but Finn looked so fragile. Thin and confused.

His eyes cleared at the sight of Logan, though, and then filled with bright tears.

“Is this real,” he barely whispered the words, his voice hoarse from disuse, as if scared to break the spell. His hand twitched on the bed, as if to reach forward. But touching didn’t work with Crucio, and it would only hurt to know that they couldn’t touch—Logan knew that all too well.

Logan nodded, throat too tight to speak. He took Finn’s fingers in his own and kissed his palm before pressing it against his own cheek.

“I’m warm, aren’t I?” he managed.

Finn just stared at him, then past him at Grimmauld’s wooden ceilings, at the sunlight beginning to flood into the room.

“You’re out. You got out. You’re okay."

Finn found Logan again quickly, as if he couldn’t help it. His palm pressed against Logan’s cheek, sliding around to cup the back of his head.

“Come here,” Finn said the words like a breath of relief, like air, and Logan went.

He buried his face in Finn’s neck, let Finn pull as much of his weight on him as he wanted, and wedged one of his arms around Finn’s back, the other buried in the hair at the base of his neck, just like Finn’s was in his own.

They lay there, just breathing. Logan felt Finn’s chest rise when his own did. They pressed against each other, like their hearts were trying to get closer. Logan didn’t think he’d feel close enough to Finn ever again.

“Lo,” Finn whispered after a while, and Logan had thought that maybe he had fallen asleep again, was content to lay here and wait for him to wake again, but he looked up at his name on Finn’s lips.

Finn pulled him forward again and brushed their mouths together once, twice, and then smiled. A laugh spilled from him, eyes wet again.

“I missed you,” Logan felt his voice tremble beneath the words, and they felt too small. Words felt too small for Finn.

“You could have been caught,” Finn whispered, fingers combing Logan’s hair back from his forehead, as if re-memorizing the feeling. “God, I don’t remember…how?”

“I didn’t…I…Finn, I did some bad things to get you here,” Logan swallowed dryly, closing his eyes at the feeling of Finn touching him again. “And it’s really hard to be sorry about it right now, but…”

Finn made a soft sound, and Logan couldn’t help but smile when he felt Finn’s thumb brush just under his eye, a small warning, before they ever so lightly touched his eyelashes. They were long, and dark, and Finn had always loved them, had repeated that gesture a thousand and one times, even when they had been all of eight years old, whispering to each other and staying up past their curfew.

“You’re okay,” Finn said, and then, “God, I’m starving.”

There Logan was, being selfish again. He scrambled for the toast, cold now.

“Leo says to take it slow,” he said as he handed it over.

“Leo?” Finn asked as he pushed himself up to sit. He hummed gratefully when Logan handed him the glass of water, too, and took a small sip, then a bigger one.

“He’s—yeah, Leo. He—” Saved me. Helped me. Was kind. He’s what I think home feels like, but I need you there, I need you to tell me, to be sure.

“Oh,” came a voice from behind them, and Logan turned to see Sirius. “You’re awake. That’s good.”

Finn nodded, mouth full. He glanced at Logan. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Shit,” Sirius laughed a little. “I’m Sirius. Sorry. This is—uh,” he gestured around. “Well, I wouldn’t say my house. I live here? But welcome to Grimmauld, stay as long as you like.”

“He’s Saint’s friend,” Logan said, and then realized. He said quietly. “Bash.”

“Bash?” Finn’s eyes widened and Logan shook his head.

“He doesn’t like to be called that. I try not to slip. I’m getting better.”

“He never did,” Finn nodded, then said, with a small smile. “Saint, then. I…yeah, he…he was there. In solitary.” Finn shook his head. “I thought it was the drugs.”

Sirius shook his head. “No, we were there.”

Finn looked at Logan. “Lo?”

It wasn’t accusing. Just curious. But Logan heard the question anyway. Why weren’t you there?

“It’s not his fault,” came Saint’s voice as he emerged the same way that Sirius had come. His hair was a mess of curls on top of his head, his eyes a little puffy from a hard sleep, but focused clearly on Finn. “I told him not to come. He almost burned a house down to get you back.”

Logan flushed with guilt.

Saint walked over to sit beside Logan and smiled a tired smile. “Are you okay?”

Finn nodded. “Thanks to you. Saint.”

Saint’s eyebrow raised a little at the weight Finn put into the word. A pleased light flickered over his face.

“Eat something,” Saint said. “You look bad.”

Finn laughed a little as he took another bite of toast, and Saint rose, walking over to where Sirius was. Saint folded himself against Sirius’ chest and closed his eyes. Sirius was staring out the window towards the waves, but wrapped an arm around him, and tilted his temple to rest against Saint’s.

Finn’s eyes were questioning, but Logan just shrugged. He didn’t know if they were together or not. Sometimes it seemed like they were, sometimes it didn’t. Logan didn’t really care just then, he only wanted to reach out and run his fingers through Finn’s hair and watch him eat. He couldn’t wait until he had his strength back. He’d take him to Leo’s. They’d go swimming in the ocean for as long as they wanted and find work somehow. Somewhere safe.

Finn leaned into his palm as he ate, smiling at him in a way that made Logan have to scoot closer to him, their crossed knees touching.

“Leo makes good toast,” Finn said.

“Leo makes good everything,” Logan laughed. “Leo’s just—good.” Logan pressed his hands onto Finn’s thighs. He was still wearing the clothes from Saint Clair. They’d have to find him something else. Logan thought of the money in his bag, and where it came from, and the Crucio beside it. He swallowed, trying to keep the worry form his face, and rubbed a thumb over Finn’s knee. “You’ll see.”

A whistle came from down the hall, and Dorcas emerged, hair and mess and eyes on her phone. “Hurricane’s supposed to roll in in the next week. Fuck, it’s supposed to be really bad.”

Logan looked up. He could remember a few hurricanes while in Saint Clair. The rattling windows and the mess of fallen trees afterwards. “Have they named it yet?”

“Botilda,” Dorcas nodded. “Hurricane Botilda. Makes sense, after Albus last year.”

“We should start trying to board up now,” Sirius said. “Grimmauld barely made it last year.”

“We should try to be somewhere else when it hits,” Dorcas replied pointedly. “It wasn’t just the house that barely made it. And they’re saying it’s bad, Sirius. Really bad.”

Logan felt Finn scoot closer to him, and smiled when he felt a kiss pressed to his neck.

“Where will we go?” Finn whispered.

“If you suggest—” Sirius began, eyes dark and on Dorcas.

“James would let you two stay with him,” Dorcas said. “He would. And I could get away with staying with Marls.”

“No,” Sirius snapped. “We don’t need their help.”

“God, you’re so fucking proud,” Dorcas sighed.

“Interesting choice of words,” Saint laughed. “Gods, and their holy souls.”

Logan thought of Leo. Of his warm house, and his offer. They could stay with Leo…would Leo really want them to?

“Anyway. We’ll decide later,” Saint patted Sirius’ cheek and sauntered out of the room. “I have a lunch date.”

Luke had asked to meet him in Rowena, and Saint thought that felt neutral enough. Not the Hollow, not Godric. Although, if they were talking about Pascal Dumais, they might as well have gone to the Lion. Baby steps, Saint supposed. After all, he was already surprised that Luke had asked to meet up at all.

He was even more surprised every time he brushed against the bandage across his ribs. Had been surprised by Luke’s—touch, he guessed. He thought of his messy scrawl that filled the corners of the copy of Jane Eyre Saint had swiped, now sitting in Grimmauld. He had spent more time last night studying the formation of each written letter than actually reading.

Saint, standing on the sunny sidewalk, waiting, rolled his eyes at himself. Luke was an ass. Saint was, too. Luke liked books. Saint wondered if he liked to talk about them, wondered what he wanted to do with himself.

He probably wanted to leave here, just like Sirius did. Just like Marlene, and Dorcas, and Saint’s own fucking mother.

Saint wished he had tried harder to get into the files at Saint Clair. Maybe he could have known her name by now. He had tried so hard to remember, but the only thing that ever came up was maman. A hazy memory of crying, of reaching for her as arms carried him backwards, that he didn’t know if he made up or not.

Now, if felt like he never would.

“Sup.”

Saint turned to see Luke standing there, aviator sunglasses on and a white t-shirt.

Saint sent him a quietly disbelieving look. “You don’t actually talk like that, you know.”

Saint took his sunglasses off, folding them into his shirt as he led them towards the restaurant. “What?”

“Sup,” Saint parroted. “Dude. Hey, man.”

“How do you know how I talk?” Luke yanked open the door like he was fighting against it. It wasn’t the gentle touch Saint remembered across his skin, but Saint didn’t like it any less.

“Because I’ve read your writing now,” Saint replied, and walked through first, even though Luke hadn’t been holding the door for him.

“Hey,” said a boy at the counter. He had dark skin, and gold glinted in his ears. “Take a seat wherever.”

“No, you haven’t,” Luke snapped as he followed.

“Luke,” the boy laughed. “Chill, man.”

“Sup,” Saint said to the boy, then looked at Luke. “Deveaux, you picked the place, what should I have? Also, you’re paying.”

Luke shot him a look, but approached the counter. “Hi, Thomas. Two burgers. Also, are we scrimmaging later?”

“You know it, baby. Two coming up. How you like them, or…?” Thomas asked.

Luke looked at Saint. “Do you like pickles?”

“Nope.”

Luke grinned. “Yeah, how I like them.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes, but complied.

Dorcas ditched her bike in the grass outside of the building with the sign that read Blizzard’s. It was the most popular ice cream spot on the island.

The bell above the door rang out happily as she entered, the smell of sugar and sunscreen hitting her as she looked around at the bustling tables, painted bright colors. Natalie was behind the freezers, long blond hair scooped up into a messy bun as she handed out cone after cone. She winked at Dorcas when she saw her, and jerked her chin towards the back. Dorcas smiled back, and slid behind the counter and through the door into the back room.

“Meadowes,” Kasey looked up. “You’re early. Hear about the storm?”

“Yes. Kase, can I ask you something?”

Kasey smirked. “You’ve never asked to ask me anything before.”

Dorcas sent him a sarcastic glare, and leaned on the counter, feeling the weight of her pack shift against her back. “I’m thinking about getting out.”

Kasey paused for a long while, then sighed. “Yeah.” He looked back towards where Dorcas knew the greenhouse was, where the Crucio grew, hidden among the other plants. “Yeah, me too.”

“Seriously?”

“This was something I took up when I was younger, you know?” Kasey replied. “I wanted fast cash, and I was using Crucio myself at the time.” He rolled his eyes. “Felix. You know how it is. I was lost. This shit can pray on lost people. Now…now I want a different life. With Nat. I wanted it to be safe, you know? Crucio. I wanted it to be used correctly.”

Dorcas nodded. She knew that well, too. Kasey and herself had had countless discussions about the medicinal uses of Crucio. But it was a slippery slope. It could go wrong. It had gone wrong in the Carrows’ hands. They laced it with drugs that forced one to give up control of their memory, it allowed the reliving without the learning. It became a Pandora’s Box, a place where your greatest desires lived, as well as the addiction to desire. The Carrows put things in there that let the addiction out first, before any of the healing properties. Used correctly, the plant provided a safe place for grief, or hope, or longing. Used incorrectly, it created a false reality in which to live.

“That doesn’t sound like getting out of the game exactly,” Dorcas said.

“It’s getting out of the illegal part of it,” Kasey replied. “The dealing. I want to start a company. Therapy and classes. I want to help people, not give them a late night quick fix.” Kasey glanced up at her. “We were actually hoping you’d join in. But here you are, wanting out.”

Dorcas sighed and slid into one of the ragged leather chairs. “I like the sound of that. The only reason I agreed to work with you is because your aim wasn’t to take advantage. But I…”

“Marlene?” he asked.

Dorcas took her hat off, staring at the front, where Marlene had painted their initials, intertwined.

“She’s leaving,” Dorcas said. “For school. And I…I need to be able to go with her.”

“Do you have savings?”

“Some,” she nodded. “Enough for a plane ticket. I’ll have to get it in cash though, which always makes them think twice.”

Kasey laughed. “No bank account with drug money, I’m afraid.”

“Right,” Dorcas sighed, and let her head fall back. “God, Kase, what the fuck am I going to do? She’s going to meet some California chick at school and just…there are so many amazing people out there. And she deserves the best of them. Not some drop out.”

“If you drop out of one thing, you can drop into another,” Kasey replied. He pushed his chin length tawny hair out of his face. “Now, I’m tired of your feel-sorry-for-me bullshit. You’re smart and in love and one hell of a person.”

Dorcas let her head drift to one side to smile at him. “You too, Kase. You know that don’t you?”

“Oh, I tell him as much as I can,” came Natalie’s voice. She came around Dorcas’ chair and slid onto Kasey’s lap with a light kiss. “But he’s basically as stubborn as you are.”

Dorcas snorted, but then went quiet. She looked around at the back room. It was tidy chaos, the perfect environment for inspiration.

“You two could put the Carrows out of business,” she said. “You really could.”

“If we can get the funding up,” Kasey said. “Then, yeah,” he smiled at Natalie, stroking a hand over her bare shoulder. “We could.”

“Two burgers,” Thomas said, then laughed a little. “Extra pickles, no onions.”

Luke looked at Saint, who just sighed.

“You’re the picture of chivalry,” Saint said, but picked it up. “The very image.”

They took their first few bites in silence. Saint figured Luke would talk when he was ready, but when he just pulled out the letter his dad had left him, the single slip of paper with nothing but Pascal’s name on it, Saint guessed he’d have to take the first step once again.

“We should be meeting at the Lion, you know,” Saint broke the silence. “That’s where Dumo is.”

“Dumo?” Luke repeated.

“Pascal. Pascal Dumais. Everyone calls him Dumo.”

Luke nodded, as if taking this in. He was fidgety as hell. Saint had never seen him do anything with his hands except throw a punch or tuck them beneath his crossed arms. Or hold Saint steady. Now, he picked apart his fries, shredded the label on his soda and his paper napkin, and chewed slowly.

“I don’t want him there,” Luke finally said. “I want to know about him first. Tell me.”

Saint nodded. He could understand that.

Saint picked up his water, breaking the cap’s seal. “Me and Sirius have been…it’s just been the two of us for a long time. Most of our lives.”

“I remember when Sirius left school,” Luke said. “There were all kinds of rumors. Most kids thought he was, like, dead or something.”

“He sort of was,” Saint replied. “But, then again, so was I. We were free, but we didn’t know what the hell we were doing. Dumo could see that we were on our own, of course.”

“Did he threaten you?” Luke asked. “With authorities, or whatever?”

“The opposite,” Saint said, twisting the cap this way and that. “He didn’t push. He made sure we had what we needed, but he didn’t push.” Saint smiled. “And I hate to be pushed.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve figured that out.”

“He said something recently, actually,” Saint continued. “About Leo’s father. And the treasure. They used to go out on Leo’s dad’s boat together.” Saint shrugged. “Maybe your dad went, too.”

“I didn’t know anything about it,” Luke said, staring down at his food.

“I think, more often than not, children don’t know half of what their parents are.”

“Or anything of them, right?” Luke said, then winced. Actually winced. “Sorry. I don’t…”

“Right,” Saint just sighed. “Or anything. Like me.”

“I guess you’re tired of the poor orphan boy thing,” Luke said. “But you can’t tell me you don’t play that card.”

“I’m tired of it in more ways than I can count,” Saint said, then laughed. “But, yes. It’s helpful, when I need some extra work. Sometimes. Some people feel bad. Some people don’t trust me. Like you.”

“You haven’t given me any reason to trust you.”

“And yet, here we are,” Saint waved a hand at the restaurant. “You want your father. And I want my gold. And Logan wants to be free of debt, and Finn wants Logan, and Sirius wants…” Saint swallowed. “And I don’t actually know what Lupin wants.”

“I don’t think Remus knows what Remus wants,” Luke leaned back in his chair, and Saint felt their sandaled feet brush beneath the table as Luke stretched his long legs out. He pulled them back. “Sorry.”

Saint briefly thought about hooking their ankles together, just to see what Luke would do, but instead tucked his feet beneath his chair, giving him room.

“So, tonight?” he said.

Luke shook his head, confused. “What?”

“We’ll talk to Dumo tonight. You’ll come to the Lion, his restaurant, tonight. In the Hollow.”

Luke looked away, towards the other customers, the busy lunch scene. “Who else will be there?”

“Sirius will want to know. Leo. Maybe no Logan just yet, he’ll be with Finn. Bring Lupin, if you want. What, you don’t like people?”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You’re the one who came to me because I’m mean.”

Saint laughed. “I came to you because I don’t like surprises and you’re exactly what I expect you to be.”

“And that’s mean?”

Saint rose, crumpling his napkin and throwing it onto his empty plate. “Five o’clock tonight, before the dinner rush.”

Luke nodded and followed him out of the restaurant, waving to Thomas, and back into the heat of the day.

“Oh,” Luke called as they split ways, Luke towards his car, Saint towards the beach. Saint turned to see him squinting in the sunlight. “And whatever it is that you took from my room—and I know you took something—bring it tonight.”

Saint hummed, as if thinking. Then, he pulled Luke’s sunglasses from his pocket and put them on.

“No,” Saint chimed, and turned on his heel, smiling at the curse that followed him.

Remus ran into Sirius outside of the Lion, and almost laughed at the surprise that washed over Sirius’ face when Remus smiled and said hello. In a way, Sirius reminded Remus of Luke. Unassuming when it came to affection, but bright when they let themselves feel it, accept it.

“I keep thinking I’ll see you again,” Remus said. “Waiting for me on the dock.”

Sirius pushed his hands in the pockets of his shorts. He had a tank top on, and Remus’ eyes lingered over his tan arms.

“I didn’t know you wanted me there,” Sirius sounded almost bashful when he said it.

Remus’ smile was teasing, but his eyes were firm. “I think you should stop assuming things about me.”

Sirius blinked, and went to open his mouth to reply, but Remus only shrugged a shoulder and held the door open for him.

“Did they ask you to come, too?” Remus said. “Saint and Luke?”

“Yeah,” Sirius mumbled. “Well, Saint.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully. “Hey, did you hear about the hurricane coming? It’s supposed to be a heavy one.”

“I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

Remus glanced back at him as they walked through. He didn’t see Luke or Saint yet. “What do you mean?”

Sirius pointed towards the coast as they slid into chairs. “We’re right off the point so, it’s a lot of nailing wood boards and sandbags and…you know.”

“The point,” Remus repeated, and Sirius nodded.

Remus stared at him. “You’re…not actually thinking of staying there.”

Sirius looked at him and Remus held up wary hands.

“That wasn’t a dig, calm down, I’m just saying—the storm.”

“We’re fine,” Sirius said. “We’ve always been fine.”

“You can’t be—it’s not safe.”

“Well, I’m sorry if not all of us can afford—”

“Stay with me,” Remus blurted, and it sent them both into silence.

Sirius shook his head. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you a little,” Remus looked up as a waitress brought them ice water. “I knew you a little when we were eleven, before you disappeared.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t disappear. A God would think that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Once someone exits your little bubble, it’s easy to pretend they don’t exist.” Sirius scooted his chair to the side a little, defiantly, eyes on the door. “No. Thank you. We’ll be fine.”

Remus just stared at him. He was like two waring currents, Sirius Black. Hot and cold, mingling below the surface where Remus couldn’t see. They surprised him each time he brushed through a different one. He thought of the boat, and changing winds, and Sirius’ smile. There was no trace of it now.

“You’re going to risk your life to prove a point?”

“I’m not.”

“Which, risking your life, or proving a point?”

Sirius just scowled. “Thank you for your offer.”

Remus sat back in his chair, too, if only to mirror Sirius’ crossed arm position. They stared at each other.

“They say the winds are going to be up to—”

“Look,” Sirius sighed. “I—”

“You could really be hurt,” Remus said, and when Sirius opened his mouth again to respond, Remus cut him off again. “Or Saint could be.”

Remus watched the way Sirius’ eyes lightened at his name. He saw a crack in the surface, a shift, but before he could say more, there was a shuffle of feet and Luke was standing by their table.

“Luke,” Remus said, looking up at him. He didn’t look any better than he had the night they had gone to his house. Remus felt another wave of guilt about that. Luke had purple beneath his eyes and his sweatshirt was one that Remus knew well. It had been left at his own house for weeks, only for Luke to pick it up later. It was a little small, from before he had bulked up from lacrosse, but Luke still wore it, fraying edges and all.

“Hey,” Luke cleared his throat, pushed a hand through his hair, and sat down. “Yeah, hi.”

He was nervous, Remus realized.

“Where is Saint?” Luke asked.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, and Remus practically felt the cold current grow. “He’ll be here.”

Luke didn’t rise to the bait. He looked rattled. He pulled the sweatshirt off, his haste nearly taking his shirt with it. His cheeks had pink spots on them. Remus reached out to touch his arm.

“Luke,” he said. “Are you—”

“Yeah,” Luke cut him off, but then looked at Remus more softly. He nodded. “I’m okay, Re.”

Remus nodded, then looked back to Sirius in time to see his eyes dart from Remus to Luke and back, narrowed.

“What?” Luke snapped.

“Sup,” Saint’s voice came.

Remus looked at him as he sat down, then back at Sirius.

“Jesus Christ,” Luke mumbled.

“You know, Deveaux,” Saint said instead, and smiled at Luke. “There’s a song that came on in your car. Been stuck in my head ever since.”

“Where’s Pascal Dumais?” Luke asked.

“Straight to the point, then,” Saint replied. “He should be here. Might be in the back.”

Sirius rose, palms flat on the table. He still looked exasperated. “I’ll go find him.”

That left Remus alone at the table with Luke and Saint. Luke still seemed rattled, and Saint was just looking between the two of them.

“Are you all right?” Remus leaned in to ask. “You look…”

Luke took a slow, uneasy breath and looked over at Remus. The green in his eye seemed to blend more with the brown, his pupils large.

“This guy could have information about my dad,” Luke began, and glanced behind him in the direction that Sirius had gone. “I’ll let you know how I am when we talk to him. I…” Luke hesitated.

“Three,” Saint said softly. “Two…one—”

Luke pushed his chair back, too, turning towards the counter and the kitchen doors. “I don’t want Black warning him off or something.”

“What?” Remus made to rise, too, but hesitated. “Luke—“

But Luke was already ducking beneath the counter and more or less blasting through the kitchen’s door. Remus saw Leo do a double take and take a step towards him, shouting a protest.

Saint called out to him, then rose. “It’s all right!”

Remus watched him walk away in that smooth way of his, and lean against the counter, clearly explaining to Leo.

Remus had no choice but to follow.

The kitchens smelled like spiced meat and fresh bread. It was steamy with boiling water and frying pans, cooks yelling to each other as they prepared for a full service.

Remus floundered for a moment before he found Sirius and Luke. Luke was easy to spot, taller than anyone else there. He was talking very quickly to a broad man with a dark beard and kind eyes. He had the sort of hands that Remus associated with his grandfather. Meant for making, strong and scarred. Remus stepped up beside Sirius, who was watching.

“Pascal Dumais,” Remus said softly to Sirius.

Sirius was gazing at Pascal with a look on his face that Remus had never seen before. Soft.

“Dumo,” he replied.

Pascal shuffled them all into a back office where he pulled extra chairs around a table, pointed some of them to a slightly scraggly couch, and pulled out a bottle of what looked like homemade wine. It was light orange in color, and he handed each of them a glass.

“One of my wife’s many talents,” he smiled. “It’s orange wine.”

“Tell us now,” Luke said. “Tell me why my father—”

They all looked up when the door opened, and Leo slipped inside. He looked around warily at them, then managed a slight smile at Pascal.

“I don’t know how to reach Logan,” he said. “I…”

Pascal shook his head. “Sit down, Leo. You’ll need to hear this, too.”

Saint scooted over, into Sirius’ side. It pushed Sirius closer to Remus, and Remus tried not to settle into the warmth that Sirius radiated against him. He looked around the office instead, jaw clenched. It was filled with family photos, but it wasn’t until Remus looked closer that he realized it wasn’t just three children that appeared beside their parents, three children who were nearly Pascal and his wife’s spitting image. He recognized a young Sirius, and beside him, a young Saint. They were smiling wildly. It brought Remus back all those years.

Sirius, there one day, gone the next.

Pascal took a sip of his wine, his eyes going somewhat sad. Remus found himself looking at his hands again. He missed his grandfather.

All us Lupins, Remus. We go mad. At least that’s what they say.

“We shared a love of history,” Pascal said to Leo. “Your dad and I. But, of course, we by no means had the funds to truly commit to such an,” he laughed lightly, a little sadly. ”A hunt.”

He looked at Luke. Pascal spoke with the heavy island accent.

“That is where your father came in.”

Luke hadn’t touched his cup. “He was your funding.”

Pascal nodded. “But I didn’t know that he was…I didn’t know where he was getting it from. I never dreamed that he was…well, I’m not sure what they took him for, in the end.”

“No one seems to be able to tell me,” Luke said lowly.

“You never said,” Leo whispered. His blue eyes weren’t betrayed exactly, but he looked shocked.

“No, Dumo, you really didn’t,” Saint said.

“What was there to say?” Pascal replied. “Do you know how many people look for that treasure? At first I thought Wyatt, Leo’s father, was mad.”

Remus stiffened.

“And then,” Pascal rose. “Then he brought us the map.”

“The map,” Leo repeated, and he stood. “The map to The Cradle?”

Pascal swallowed and nodded. “Yes. I don’t know where he got it, he wouldn’t say.”

Leo stared at him for a long moment, and shook his head. “Why…why was he out there alone? Why was he out there in that weather?”

“You need a storm,” Pascal sighed and rubbed his eyes. “At least that’s what he and Victor thought.”

“My dad was actually hunting with you?” Luke asked. He and Leo wore almost identical expressions.

Pascal nodded. “It sounds strange, doesn’t it? A Hollow, a Helga, and a God, working together.” His eyes flit around at them all.

“Why a storm?” Remus asked. “Like, for tides or something?”

“Exactly,” Pascal nodded. “There’s a current in The Cradle. They call it—”

“The Horcrux,” Remus said, and when Saint sent him a questioning look he spread his hands, drawing a circle in his palm. “It’s a killer. It’s why people are so wary of sailing near there. It’s strongest when the winds are high, and the island ring keeps it contained. And it’s so rocky that it…” he looked at Pascal, realizing. “My grandfather used to call it the ship-sinker.”

Pascal nodded. “He’s not the only one. I thought Wyatt was insane, but Victor didn’t.”

Leo took a step forward, and Remus watched his chest rise and fall, eyes turning angry. “Then why wasn’t Victor out there?” He turned on Luke.

“Come, Le,” Pascal shook his head. “It isn’t this boy’s fault. We all knew it was dangerous.”

“And what?” Leo said, voice raising. “And he was the only one who thought it was worth the risk?”

Pascal was quiet for a long moment after that. Remus heard Leo’s real question, too. He was the only one who didn’t think he was leaving something behind? Pascal seemed about to speak once or twice, and then shook his head.

“I don’t know,” Pascal whispered, voice pained. “I didn’t even know he was going.” He looked up at Leo. “I didn’t know he had gone until we heard—”

Leo turned his back, then, and pushed the door open, disappearing down the hall. He left silence behind him.

Luke stood in the middle of it, like the quiet didn’t weigh him down at all.

“And my dad’s letter?” he asked. “Your name.”

“Jesus, Deveaux,” Sirius snarled from beside Remus. “Give it a fucking minute.”

“He’s not the only one who has been waiting for answers,” Luke snapped back. “It isn’t my fault he didn’t like them.”

Pascal rose without a word and turned to the desk. He opened a deep filing cabinet drawer and, from the very back, slid a rolled piece of paper, tightly bound in a protective plastic.

“The map,” Luke said, eyes trained on it.

“This showed up a few days after your father’s arrest,” Pascal replied. “That’s all I know. I tried to get in contact with him. I really did.”

“But it went down with Leo’s father,” Saint said. “Why are there two?”

“There is never only one of anything,” Pascal said. “The world is too greedy.”

Luke reached for it, but Pascal held it back with a knowing expression. “Do I look stupid? I’m not giving you any clue as to where that gold might be. I don’t need anyone else getting—”

“Caught up?” Saint mumbled, and Remus felt the motion of Sirius slugging him.

“All fine,” Saint said with a smile, and stood. “Don’t worry about it, Dumo. We understand.”

Pascal let out a slight laugh. “Don’t think I don’t know about your slippery fingers.” He tapped the rolled map on his palm. “This won’t be in the same place twice.”

Saint pouted. Sirius stood, too, keeping close to Saint. It left Remus feeling cold on the couch.

“Why did you tell us, then?” Sirius asked.

“Sometimes there are things that people need to know,” Pascal said. “And sometimes there aren’t. You had my name. I did tell you why. But this. This is dangerous.”

“This is opportunity,” Saint shoved his way in front of Sirius.

“For what, wealth?” Pascal scoffed. “There are easier ways.”

“You don’t what to finish the job?” Saint shot back.

“I already lost one friend out of it,” Pascal said evenly. “I won’t lose a son, too.”

Saint froze and Remus saw Sirius freeze, too. Saint didn’t even look like he was breathing. His silence was equally as heavy as the one Leo had left behind.

“I’m not,” Saint’s voice barely came out, but it filled the small room. Remus thought his hands were shaking.

Pascal just nodded, eyes solemn.

Saint turned, shaking Sirius off when he tried to catch him, and then Luke, tried, too. Remus blinked and they were all tumbling out of the room, Luke on Sirius’ heels, Sirius on Saint’s.

“Stop,” Sirius shouted as they broke back out into the night. “Saint, it doesn’t matter—”

“Nothing does,” Saint yelled back without turning. “And so nothing turns into everything.”

Sirius stopped as Saint turned into shadows, as he got farther and farther away. Remus caught his breath beside him, but Luke kept going.

“What?” Sirius asked. “You’re going after him?”

“We need him,” Luke snapped over his shoulder, and disappeared, too, the white soles of his sneakers glinting like the moon rising.

“You’re not?” Remus asked, looking up at Sirius.

Sirius’ eyes looked far away. With Saint, Remus thought.

“Saint can’t be chased,” Sirius sighed. “He loses everyone. He comes back.”

They stayed there, though, just at the edge of The Hollow, looking into the dim night. Remus wondered what Luke thought Saint would give him.

“A storm,” Remus said. “The treasure needs a storm.”

“Botilda,” Sirius nodded. “I know.”

“Do you think he’ll…or Leo and Logan—”

“Maybe.”

Remus reached for him, put a hand on his shoulder. “You know where I live, right?”

Sirius made to pull away, but Remus held on. “Just answer.”

“Of course I know where you live,” Sirius sighed. “This island isn’t that big. Though some people might prefer if it was.”

Remus huffed out an annoyed breath, and let go. “There’s the tower. Round, a turret. There’s a door at the base of it. Go through it, up the stairs, and through the door to your left. My room’s just down the hall, and there’s a guest bedroom right across from it. I’ll leave the doors open.”

He left Sirius standing there, and with a strange pull in his chest.

Finn couldn’t help but feel strange, walking up to Leo’s house, his hand in Logan’s. It was small but cozy, with warm light coming from inside the windows, and flowers growing in the small yard. He could see the workshop garage door that Logan had described. Someone had painted the metal as a sky full of stars.

“This is such a…” he began, then laughed, feeling almost giddy. “Such a house.”

Logan laughed, too. His smile hadn’t faded once since Finn had gotten back on his feet. He didn’t feel all the way there, the tiredness still lingered, but at least now he felt like he could eat an entire horse—and no longer in tiny bites.

“It is, I really like it inside,” Logan replied as they stopped at the door. He squeezed Finn’s hand, and kissed the back of his palm. “You’ll see.”

He raised his fist to knock, and they stood there for a long, quiet moment, Logan leaning his head on Finn’s shoulder, before the door opened. Finn let himself take Leo in. He was blond, and tall. Lean muscled and—and he looked unbearably sad. His eyes were red.

Leo looked at them and Finn almost could feel Logan’s smile fade.

“Leo?” he asked.

“I…” Leo began, but his breathing caught, his eyes falling shut as he tried to keep his tears at bay.

Finn didn’t really know what made him do it, but he reached forward and put a hand on his arm—at the same time that Logan placed on on Leo’s back.

“Leo, hey,” Logan said gently. “Hey… what is it?”

“Let’s sit,” Finn said. He caught a glimpse of the living room behind Leo and the two of them got the door closed and led Leo to the couch. He sagged into it.

“I’m sorry,” Leo choked out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Logan said, shooting a worried, confused look at Finn. “We…what…”

“What can we do?” Finn asked timidly. Leo didn’t even know him. He probably didn’t want to be crying in front of him.

Leo looked up at Logan and a strange story spilled out of him. A ship, Finn caught. Gold. A hurricane and a death. Logan seemed to understand every word of it, his eyes wide. Finn realized he still had a hand on Leo’s back, and pressed it back into his lap.

“I never really thought too much about…” Leo’s voice broke. “How. If it was terrifying or…”

Finn looked at Logan across Leo. He shook his head, showing he didn’t understand. Leo must have caught the gesture in the corner of his eye because he turned to Finn. Finn stared at him. Some people just looked gorgeous when they cried. Leo was one of them.

“I’m sorry,” Leo rasped. “This isn’t how I wanted to meet you, Finn.”

Finn just shook his head. “I…no, don’t…It’s okay. It’s all okay.”

“He just,” Leo’s breathing caught, and he looked back at Logan. “There’s a difference now. It wasn’t the storm. He chose to—he chose to go.”

Logan placed a soothing hand on Leo’s neck and leaned in so that their foreheads nearly touched. Finn leaned back a little, staring at the inch of space between them.

“We know how it feels to have someone choose to go, Leo,” Logan said softly. “We understand.”

Logan looked at Finn, and Finn didn’t know what else to do but nod. That he could understand.

“We do,” Finn said softly. “We understand.”

Leo wiped his eyes and looked at Finn. He tried for a shaky smile. “I guess we have some explaining to do.”

169 notes · View notes

weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

Text

crazy (f.w.)

prompt: something has been off between you and fred and trying to get to the bottom of it is madness.

pairing: fred weasley x fem! gryffindor! reader

warnings: mild language, crying, usage of marijuana, underage smoking, being high, dwindling relationships, angst

word count: 6.6k

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdric @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711@vogueweasley @kaseyrose96-blog @hufflepuff5972 @gryffindcrghost @wand3ringr0s3

The snow melted away revealing the lush, green Scottish landscapes that the Hogwarts castle proudly sat upon. Spring had made its arrival with the eruption of white forget-me-nots and blossoming wildflowers in the courtyard. The sight from outside your window made your heart fill with glee as you smiled brightly, a lighthearted giggle dancing off your lips. You turned to your roommates with bright eyes and a hopeful smile. Alicia sighs mellow dramatically as you run over to her with pleading eyes, “It’s a beautiful day outside. Don’t you want to enjoy the first day of spring?” you dance around her as Angelina enters your dormitory with a big, bright smile. She had the same idea as you, no doubt.

Alicia looks back and forth between you and Angie before surrendering, “Not too long please. I have an herbology exam and I need to do well on it.”

Without much more hesitation, the three of you are out of the dormitory and scurrying down the stairs. “We’ll be surrounded by the grass and the flowers and the trees; that oughtta help with studying, won’t it, Angie?” you tease as Angelina laughs in agreement, earning a sarcastic eye roll from Alicia. Finally, a warm day outside after the brutal and unforgiving winter. The sun was out, the grass was green, and the air was fresh with renewal. Spring was here.

As you walk through the common room, you stop in your tracks when your eyes land on Fred, your lips involuntarily turning up into a smile when you see him. Angelina and Alicia run ahead of you as you grab Fred’s hands with a smile. “Freddie!” you beam, looking at him with a happy grin, cheeks tingling from smiling hard.

He reciprocates a smile and places a kiss to your forehead. “Excited to see me, darling?” he teases. “Where are you lot off to?” he asks, resting one of his hands on your hips, looking down at you as you excitedly rock back and forth on your heels. Your lips are curled into a smile as you bite onto your bottom lip, lovingly looking at your Fred. “Take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer,” he whispers, teasing you as you roll your eyes with a light swat to his chest, making him chuckle.

“We’re off to go outside. It’s beautiful out and we figured we would enjoy the weather,” you tell him as he tilts your chin up with this forefinger, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. You giggle lightly before biting his thumb gently as he chuckles. “You want to come with us?” you ask hopeful for his response.

Much to your dismay, Fred sighs, “I’m afraid I can’t. I have loads of work to catch up on today. I’m way behind in Potions.” You pout, displeased with the news, but Fred kisses your pouted lips which brings an instant smile to your face. “I’ll catch up with you later though, alright, darling?” You give him a small nod before he pecks your forehead and leaves you, catching up with George who waits for him at the bottom of the steps to the boys’ dormitories.

You run off, catching up with Alicia and Angie, linking your arms with them as you make your way outdoors. As soon as you step outside, the spring air fills your lungs, smelling of fresh grass and morning dew. A small smile forms on your lips as you happily sigh. Springtime made your heart soar. It reminded you of good things, happy memories. Running in the grass as you played games of tag as a child, going to the park and getting pushed on the swings as you swung higher and higher. Spring reminded you of laying underneath a tree, Fred’s head in your lap as you brushed through his hair, reading a book out loud to him as he happily shut his eyes, listening to the sound of your voice mixing with the springtime breeze.

Angelina immediately makes a run for a grassy patch covered with beautiful wildflowers, laughing in the process as you and Alicia run after her. All three of you immediately flop down, the grass molding to the shape of your bodies as you lay back, staring at the pale blue sky filled with cotton ball clouds. As if on cue, the three of you sigh out. “This is nice,” you speak as Angie hums in agreement. “Aren’t you glad you came, Alicia?”

Alicia sighs, “Yeah, I guess.” You push her arm teasingly, making her retaliate, “Okay, okay, yes. This is very nice. Thank you.”

The three of you lay in the grass for a long while, making quiet chatter. At one point, you start picking flowers, tying the stems together to create a crown for each of you. You skillfully plaited the stems of the purple, yellow, and white wildflowers before placing the crown on your two friends’ heads. With the other flowers you found, you started plaiting again, this crown for Fred as you smiled to yourself, quietly making your masterpiece.

“For Fred?” Alicia asks you as you nod your head, not looking away from the plaits. “Jeez, (Y/N), you’re like a lovesick puppy.”

This earns a slap on the arm from Angelina, a small ouch dropping from Alicia’s mouth. “I think it’s sweet, (Y/N),” Angie beams at you as you roll your eyes, knowing she found it tooth rotting-ly sick like Alicia did. But you didn’t care. It was the small things that you did that made Fred know that you loved him. Small kisses in between classes, closing his textbook for him when he needed a break, offering a hug when he was stressed, sneaking out of class to meet him in the hallway. It were the little things that made Fred fall in love with you and you with him. Although a flower crown may be silly, it was just a token of affection. To show him that you were thinking of him while you were outside.

Recently, you’ve been doing little things more often just because of how busy Fred seemed to be. Your hang outs have been getting cut short and he doesn’t seem to have as much free time anymore. Whether it’s quidditch practice, studying for exams, or running off to pull pranks with George, you always catch him when he’s busy. It was a little frustrating, feeling like your boyfriend had been casting you aside and taking priorities over something else. But rather than telling him how you felt, you convinced yourself that this was just temporary and it would phase itself out. But a month had gone by, and nothing changed. But you still hadn’t brought it up to him. Instead, you continued doing little things.

Alicia groans, peeling herself off of the fresh grass, shielding her eyes from the setting sun. “I should probably head back inside now to study. The exam is this week and I still have a lot of work to do,” she huffs before standing from the grass, brushing off her skirt as you and Angelina follow her lead.

You link arms with Angelina as Alicia leads the way. Angelina looks at you, as you play with Fred’s flower crown in your hands. “You alright?” she asks you as you look at her with a small nod. “You seem gloomy.”

You think for a moment. You could tell Angelina about the situation, but you didn’t want to drag your friends into your relationship problems. She could talk to Fred, but why would she talk to Fred when you could? With a shake of your head, you speak, “I’m alright, Angie. Thank you for checking in though.”

She hugs you to her side, “Of course. You are one of my best mates, I just want to make sure that you’re happy.” You nod your head and walk back into the common room.

Alicia and Angie start to the girl’s dorms as you part from them, towards the boy’s. “I’m gonna go to Fred’s. I’ll catch up with you lot later,” you smile at them with a wave before heading up the stairs to Fred’s dormitory. Nervously, you play with the flower crown in your hands, twisting it in between your fingers. You were hoping that you and Fred could finally have some alone time, hoping that George and Lee wouldn’t be in the room. It had been a long while since you had alone time with Fred. Even then, the last time was short lived, Fred leaving your room earlier than you had planned thanks to quidditch practice.

When you reached his dormitory, you lifted your hand up to knock, but stopped when you heard laughter coming from behind the door. There were a few people in the room. You could hear Fred’s voice, but also a handful of others in the room. Your heart sank as you listened to the muffled voices behind the door, having a laugh with each other. Did Fred leave you out intentionally? You were friends with the same people in your year which made no sense as to why he didn’t tell you of this hang out. You got along with everyone just fine.��

You shake it off and knock on the door which causes all the voices to halt suddenly. You are so tempted to press your ear to the door to listen to the low whispering before you hear footsteps approach the door, the lock turn, and the door creak open to reveal Fred at the door. “Hi,” you speak timidly as Fred smiles.

But instead of swinging the door open as expected, Fred slithers out from the door and closes it behind him. “Hi, sweetheart,” he coos to you as you feign a smile. You look behind him at the door, wondering what could be happening behind it. “I didn’t expect you,” he interrupts your thoughts as you look at him.

“Well, you did say we would catch up later...and it’s later,” you chuckle as Fred smiles. “Um,” you stutter before formulating a sentence, “I, uh, are you busy now? I thought that maybe we could go out into the courtyard and grab a blanket and watch the stars? It’s supposed to be clear out tonight. Perfect for stargazing.” You had come up with this idea off the cuff, testing him. If he said no, he could invite you in to where he was clearly hanging out with some people already. If he said yes, it meant he was willing to ditch whatever was going on inside to be with you.

Fred gives you a sad smile. “That sounds lovely, but I’m afraid I’m slammed with work tonight,” he tells you as your heart falls. You wait for him to invite you inside to his room with the obvious group he had. But he mentions none of it. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you. Soon,” he explains, kissing your hairline as you gulp, trying to keep cool. “What’s this?” he refers to the flower crown on your head with a giggle as you lightly force a smile on your lips to cover your disappointment.

“It’s, uh, a flower crown. I made them in the field. I made one for myself and Angie, and Alicia, and I actually m-”

“I hate to cut you off, my love, but I really have to get back to work,” Fred interjects as you stand there, mouth agape and eyes filled with pure confusion. “I’m sorry about tonight, darling, but I have to get going. I’ll see you soon, I promise. Love you,” he kisses your parted lips before slipping back behind the door, leaving you speechless and upset.

The flower crown in your hand suddenly looks very wilted as you sigh at the sight of it. You gulp hard, trying to keep calm and collected, but you can’t help but feel so disappointed. And lied to. Fred obviously had people over in his room and he didn’t tell you about them when you gave him the opportunity to.

Even more upset than before, you walk down the stairs and back to the girl’s dormitory, throwing Fred’s wilted crown in the garbage in the process. With low spirits, you walk back into your dormitory to see Alicia reading a textbook on her bed while Angelina laid on the floor, painting her nails, both shocked to see you back so soon. But before they could ask you why you simply stated, “He was busy.”

You take off your jumper and change into a fresh shirt and comfortable sweatpants as Alicia closes her textbook and sighs. “(Y/N), is something going on between you and Fred?” she asks you as you face away from them, changing. As you fold your clothes, you try your best to not let your sad thoughts get the best of you. “The two of you seem a little off lately. Can we help?” she asks, but that’s when it gets to you. You couldn’t hide the fact that something was happening between you and Fred and not something good. This distance, the feeling like you were oceans away, was starting to show to the outside eye.

Without bothering to cover it up, you let a small sob escape your lips as you turn around to face your friends. Both of them rise to their feet to comfort you as Angelina wraps her arms around you, pulling you closer as Alicia rubs your back. You cry in Angie’s arms, speaking through small sobs, “I just can’t help but feel worried for us.” The two of your friends listen to you intently, not wanting to miss a single beat. “Why do I let myself worry wondering what in the world did I do?” you cry out. You can’t help but feel like you did something wrong that made Fred cast you aside.

You peel yourself from Angelina’s embrace you as you wipe your eyes with the cuff of your clean shirt. “I’m so sorry you feel like this, (Y/N). You don’t deserve any of it,” Alicia says. “He’s behaving like a child,” she shakes her head as you sniffle, Alicia still rubbing your back.

“It’s not even him behaving like a child. I’ve grown used to that. It’s just...” you sigh out, running your hands over your face. “I came to his room and there were people there...and he was hiding them from me. He came out into the hallway to talk to me and he didn’t invite me in when I knew there were people inside. He’s just become so...sneaky for some reason. And that’s not the Fred I know,” you trail off, thinking about how unlike Fred this was. “I feel crazy for feeling so lonely.”

The thought of Fred becoming someone you didn’t recognize made your stomach feel queasy and your chest feel tight. You fell in love with a wild, goofy, happy person who loved spending time with you. And now...now you barely even saw the boy to know what he was like.

Angelina looks at you with sad eyes, “Hey. You’ve got us.” You give her a sad smile and nod your head. She was completely right; just because your boyfriend didn’t want to hang out with you all the time didn’t mean that you didn’t have other people in your life. “Now let’s dry those eyes and enjoy the night. I’ll finish painting my nails and then we can do yours. After that, I say we sneak into the kitchens and get some snacks and head up to the astronomy tower. It’s supposed to be a clear night and that means it’s a great night for star gazing,” she suggests with a hopeful smile as you sniffle, a small smile emerging on your face.

You look to Alicia, an excited gleam in your eyes, looking for her answer. She sighs in defeat, “Yeah, I’ll join. But if I get a shit mark on this test, it’s you two’s fault,” she points a warning finger at you as you giggle.

“Thank you, the both of you,” you tell your two best friends. This was exactly what you needed. A night with your two best friends enjoying the views of the crystal clear night sky. It was exactly what you needed to get your mind off of your relationship with Fred.

Soon enough, Angelina had finished painting her nails and Alicia had finished cramming in some last minute studying. “You sure that you’re ready for the exam, Leesh? Because if you’re not, we can do a different night!” you try to sympathize with her.

Alicia shakes her head, “Nah, I should be fine. Besides, I sit next to Longbottom. If worse comes to worse-”

“Alicia!” Angelina laughs as she just shrugs as the two of you leave your dormitory room, headed for the kitchens. “Alright you lot, come on now. And remember to keep,” Angelina speaks in a hush whisper as you tip toe into the kitchen, but halting in your tracks when you realize you’re not alone, “quiet.”

Standing in front of you is a laughing Katie Bell as she stands in between the legs of Fred who is sat on top of the counter, munching on a chocolate biscuit. The two of them are a giggling mess as you spot George and Lee raiding the cupboards for more snacks. But the laughter dwindles down as Fred’s eyes land on you. When his chocolate eyes meet yours, your heart falls onto the ground. He was busy, eh?

Alicia looks at your reaction and what she sees is the look of heartbreak. Anger starts to bubble in Alicia’s chest when she notices how upset you are. Without further hesitation, she claps her hands. “Alright, you lot. The kitchens aren’t just for you. Come on. Give it up,” she walks further into the kitchens, plucking snacks as she sees fit, one of them being the biscuits that Fred had in his hand. She immediately sticks the treat in her mouth before Fred can protest. “Thanks, Weasley,” she says with a mouthful of chocolate biscuit.

You on the other hand stay put where you are, eyes glued on Fred and his on yours. Your eyes stare into his soul and you can feel how uncomfortable he is with you catching him redhanded. His eyes are like magnets, not letting you pull away from him. It’s like you’re in a trance and he’s trying to send you a mind message. But before he can say anything, you shake your head and break eye contact. Angelina mutters something under her breath as she walks towards Alicia to help her with snacks, but you can make out her saying something along the lines of how pathetic.

Walking into the kitchens, following Angelina, you grab a bag from Alicia filled with snacks. As you turn around, you bump into George who is a giggling mess. “(Y/N)!” he exclaims as you sigh and give him a curt smile. “I haven’t seen you in forever,” he whines as you look to Angelina for help with wide eyes. “Is Freddie keeping you all to himself again?” he teases you, wiggling his brows.

But as you look at his eyes, you see how bloodshot they look, how droopy and tired his eyes are. He sports a lazy smile and a giggle keeps reverberating in his chest. You furrow your brows, “Are you...are you high, Georgie?” you ask him.

He scoffs, “Me? High? Pffft, no!” You give him a look. “Okay, yes. I am.” You look to Angelina and gulp, wanting to leave now before things got ugly. “Freddie, I miss (Y/N). Where have you been hiding her?” George calls out to her brother who remains seated on the counter, staring at you the whole time.

Fred opens his mouth to say something, but you speak before he can, “You’ve been really busy, huh, Freddie.” He just sits there and stares at you. “Thank you for being honest with me.” Your eyes divert and see Katie who stands in between his legs, hands placed on his knees. The sight makes you feel sick. “Very important business to attend to, you know? Keeping up with Potions homework. Maybe Katie can help.”

Not wanting to wait in the kitchen any longer, you start out with Alicia and Angelina not too far behind. Fred calls out your name, once, and then twice when you don’t respond. When you’re out the door, you call back, “Talk to me when you’re sober.”

You, Alicia, and Angelina walk out of the kitchens and through the castle, the energy between the three of you noticeably shifting as anger, hurt, and sadness bubble in your bones. Angie speaks, “(Y/N), you wanna ta-”

“No. I want to watch the stars with my friends. That’s all.”

Alicia and Angelina share a look as you continue to march your way to the astronomy tower, trying to enjoy what is salvageable of your night.

-------------

The next morning, the emotions you felt from last night are only amplified. The night under the stars with Angie and Alicia was lovely, but you couldn’t help your mind from wandering to the sight of Katie next to Fred, his eyes glued on you. You felt sick. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions without hearing the full story, but your gut was telling you something wasn’t adding up. The relationship wasn’t what it used to be, but this...this was something you didn’t think would ever happen.

As you sit up in bed, you run your hands over your face in distress, trying to figure out how to approach the situation. Angelina and Alicia are still fast asleep, so there was no use asking them for advice. You were on your own with this one.

“Get dressed and then you can think of something,” you whisper to yourself. You hoist your legs over the side of your bed and stand up, stretching your arms out with a yawn. “You can deal with Fred later.”

And as if on cue, there was a knock at your door. You look at the clock. It was only nine in the morning on a Saturday, who was up this early on a day off? Slowly, you make your way to the door and speak from behind it. “Who is it?”

“It’s, uh, me. It’s Fred, (Y/N),” the voice speaks as you close your eyes, silently cursing to yourself. Shit. “We need to talk about last night and what happened in the kitchens.”

You remain behind the door, hand on the door knob, but not moving it. You knew you had to talk to him and sort this whole thing out whether you liked the ending or not.

“Please, (Y/N).”

Taking a deep breath in, you open the door gently to reveal a messy haired Fred in a t-shirt and sweatpants, still groggy from sleep or lack thereof. He gives you a weak smile, “Good morning, darling.”

But his pet names didn’t bring a smile on your face like they normally did. Instead, they made your stomach sour as you just looked to the floor, pulling your jumper closer to your body. “If you want to talk, we can’t do it here. Angelina and Alicia are sleeping and I’m not disturbing them,” you speak plainly, looking up at Fred with cold eyes.

He bites the inside of his cheek and speaks, “We can go into my room if that’s alright with you. George and Lee went down for breakfast.”

Even though you would have preferred to have this talk in your own room, your own space, it was better to do it in the privacy of Fred’s rather than having to wake up and shoo Angelina and Alicia, or worse, talk as they were asleep. Begrudgingly, you shut the door behind you and follow Fred to his dormitory, a familiar route to you, but one you’d rather not be taking now.

The walk there is quiet and awkward. It is obvious that Fred is trying to make light of the situation, asking you how last night was with the girls, asking you about the day in the grass and how the weather was. But instead of engaging in conversation, you just give him one word answers or remain silent.

When you reach his room, he opens the door for you and you step into his dormitory, immediately feeling like an outsider. It was unfamiliar. This room was where you spent most of your time for so long, but since you hadn’t been here in nearly a month you felt out of place. Like you were disturbing it. You were an intruder.

Fred taps his legs before sitting on the bed, expecting you to follow suit, but you remain standing in the middle of the room, staring at him in your pajamas. “I just want to apologize for last night and you having to see me like...that,” he sighs as you remain unfazed by his words. “I should have told you that the boys and Katie and I were hanging out instead of telling you that I was working. It was wrong and I feel like shit about it...I’m sorry, love. I really feel like a dickhead,” he apologizes to you as you fold your arms across your chest. “The truth would have been so much easier to tell you rather than lie about something as silly as a group hang out. I just didn’t tell you because the boys were complaining that they never see me anymore because of how much time we spend together and I figured that if I didn’t tell you, you wouldn’t ask.”

You give him a look that just screams, you’re kidding me, right? You were busy hanging out with him? For Merlin’s sake, you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in almost a month and that was his apology? Rather his excuse? “They haven’t seen you? Fred, I haven’t seen you in nearly a month! Every time I try and ask you to hang out with me or even talk to me you have something to do. Quidditch, pulling a prank with George, hanging out with Lee, studying for an exam. Don’t try and make this about me and my demands because it’s not,” you retort to him as he just sits on the bed and stares up at you as you vent. “Not to mention, since when has you dating me ever stood in the way of you hanging out with your friends? If you wanted to hang out with them so badly, then you should have told me and I still would have said yes, Fred! I’m not a monster who wants you all to herself, but Godric, I’m sorry that I’ve miss my boyfriend!”

Fred rubs his face and simply says, “Well, I have been busy over the past couple of weeks, so that’s not rubbish.”

You laugh at his response. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?” you exclaim. “Fred, I’ve been driving myself crazy over the past few weeks wondering what I did wrong. Why you pushed me aside, why you’ve tossed me away like I’m a piece of garbage!”

“That’s not true, (Y/N). Come on,” he shakes his head, looking away from you.

Now, you are getting angry. He was going to pretend like him ignoring you and denying you for a month was nothing. That’s not how things worked. “Yes, it is, Fred and you know it!” you cry out, not realizing how loud you’ve gotten. “I don’t know what is happening between us, but whatever it is, I don’t like it,” you confess.

Maybe it was your emotions talking, but you couldn’t help but feel like Fred didn’t mind the distance between you two. Maybe he liked not being as close. Maybe he wanted to have more alone time away from you. But the thought of losing Fred, someone you had loved so dearly, so intimately, made you feel lightheaded.

Fred stands up from the bed and you think he’s going to walk over to you and give you a hug, which you know you would gladly accept. You need his comfort right now. You need him to scoop you up and tell you that everything is going to be alright and that he’s sorry for making you feel so lonely and sad. But instead of him telling you all the things you want, no need, to hear, he speaks something different. “Maybe we’re just growing apart,” he suggests.

You turn to face him with so much hurt and pain in your eyes it was enough to shatter his heart twice. Your vision becomes blurry with tears as you swallow, pushing the lump in your throat down, blinking your tears away. What was happening? “We’re w-what?” you stutter.

“Growing apart,” he repeats. “(Y/N), we’re going to be graduating soon and we’re going to have to start thinking about what we want out of life. I don’t know if we want the same things,” he tells you as your heart is ripped out of your chest and stomped on at his words. All you can do is laugh in disbelief. “I’m serious. You always told me how after you graduated here you wanted to go back to school and become a Healer and have a family and move away from England...I just...Merlin, I don’t know how to say this...”

“Then don’t,” you cut him off as Fred looks at you, tears streaming down your face now. What he was saying to you know completely contradicted everything he had told you in the past. When you and Fred spoke of the future, he always spoke of you in it. He told you how he wanted to buy a house in the countryside and raise a big family together and take holiday vacations to America and do weekly visits to the Burrow. Fred always told you that no matter what happened, he wanted you in his future. And now, that was revealed to be a lie. “Fred, I don’t care about Healer school or moving away from England. What I want is you,” you tell him as you feel your chest tighten with pain. Now Fred’s eyes start to blur with tears as you look away from him, pulling at the roots of your hair in distress. It was like he changed overnight. “What...what happened, Fred? What happened that all of a sudden you tell me our futures don’t align?”

Fred wipes tears away from his eyes and takes a deep breath in. “It’s, um, it’s a long story, but um...the joke shoppe...it looks like it’s going to happen,” Fred tells you with a lighthearted chuckle. “Harry gave George and I the winnings from the Triwizard tournament to open up the joke shoppe. It’s happening. That’s why I’ve been distant these past few weeks. George and I have been planning like crazy for it. Testing products, crunching numbers, ordering stock, finding a location in London,” he rambles on. “Last night, the lot of us were testing out an...adult product and we didn’t realize the effects it would have...so that’s why we were like that in the kitchens.”

His words make your heart swell for a moment. Fred’s dream was coming to fruition. His own joke shoppe. A place he could call his own with his best friend and twin brother. He could finally start creating the life he wanted and you couldn’t be happier for him. Except it seemed like that life he wanted didn’t have you in it. And that’s when your heart stopped swelling.

You nod your head, “That’s...brilliant, Fred. I’m so happy for you. Really. About the joke shoppe...that’s great news.” Fred gives you a hopeful smile, thinking that the worst was over. But it hadn’t even begun. “But, I don’t understand why you had to hide it from me. Did you think I was going to be upset with you? You know that I’ve wanted this for you just as badly as you have,” you tell him with the utmost sincerity which Fred knew to be fact. “You just couldn’t have me know about it for what reason exactly?”

Fred scratches the back of his neck before pacing around his room, trying to avoid the question, but you weren’t going anywhere. “I just...ugh,” he groans and throws his head back. “I just didn’t think that you would be interested. Besides, I need to focus on my work. I can’t have any distractions,” he says this last part without looking at you.

Your stomach is doing somersaults and you feel like you’ve just been lied to your entire relationship. Fred thought that you wouldn’t be interested? How was he going to determine what you were and weren’t interested in? “You’re joking,” you speak. “Fred, I will and always will support everything you do. I can’t believe you’d even think that I wouldn’t be interested in something you are so clearly passionate about,” you tell him as he gulps, knowing he was in the wrong for making such a claim. Even after all of these explanations of him ignoring you and diverting his attention elsewhere, there was something that just didn’t add up. “So, you asked Katie Bell to help test out products with you? Instead of me. Or Angie, who is seeing George. Or Alicia, who Lee has been flirting with since the dawn of time.”

Fred becomes visibly uncomfortable at the mention of Katie’s name and that’s when you shake your head, the whole thing becoming very clear to you know. This wasn’t about the shoppe anymore. This was about something else. “It was never like that, (Y/N),” Fred speaks.

“It was never like that or you never intended for it to happen?” you ask him, your voice cracking as you pace back and forth in his bedroom. He was distant with you because he was falling out of love. That was it. “Good Godric, I feel like I’m going crazy,” you let out a shaky laugh, unable to believe what was happening. The story just kept on unfolding.

Fred walks over to you quickly, trying to calm your fears, “Nothing happened between us! I swear on my life!”

You let out a laugh, “Sure! That makes me feel better!” Fred gulps. “But there was something that was there enough to make you push me away,” you speak lowly as Fred searches your teary eyes for something. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for; hope? forgiveness? love? friendship? You start pacing the room again, the venomous thoughts coming into your head as they vomit out of your mouth, “You know people told me not to get involved with you because you were a flirt, Fred. But I told them that you were different with me. You saw a future with me, but now I am proven wrong,” you tell him as he shakes his head in disbelief, trying to get you to stop talking, but you don’t. The words just tumble out. “I knew you’d love me as long as you wanted. And then someday, you’d leave me for somebody new,” you spill. “I just didn’t think that this someday would come so soon.”

“I don’t want Katie, (Y/N)! I don’t! Godric! I don’t!” he yells out. “(Y/N), I love you! You know that!” he screams as you just cry harder at his words. Over the past month, you didn’t feel his love. It felt like a chore to get an I love you out of him. “I’ve been distant because I’ve been working hard for my dream! My future! Why can’t you understand that I’m working for something I want!” he yells.

And the truth comes out.

Instinctively, you yell back, “Because how am I supposed to understand something you never told me! You never told me about the joke shoppe and your plans for it! Hell, you never told me Harry gave you the money! How am I supposed to support you when you don’t tell me how I can?!” you yell through tears. “Don’t you hear yourself! Your dream! Your future! You want! What about us?”

The both of you are crying now, you covering your mouth to prevent sobs from escaping, Fred sitting on his bed, hanging his head in his hands, sniffling. This all blew up so quickly and neither of you knew how to recover from this. The damage that the past month had caused was enough to put a gaping hole in your relationship that would be very hard to cover up. That was if you wanted to cover it up.

It’s silent for a while. The air is still and untouched. Fred on the edge of his bed, you sitting on the floor, back resting against the door. You want to get up and leave the room. But you don’t. You sit there. And think.

And then Fred speaks. “Our futures don’t fit together,” he looks at you, eyes swollen and red matching yours. “We’ve tried to make them fit. But it won’t work.”

You laugh and shake your head, “Freddie...then you haven’t listened to anything I’ve ever told you.” He looks at you, twisting his face with confusion. “All I’ve ever wanted was you. I don’t care what happens after we graduate. Healer school was an idea. But you? You were never an idea. You were something I always wanted,” you confess as Fred gives you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen. “But if I’m not in your future...then...” you trail off, unable to finish the sentence. It was a nightmare.

It’s silent again.

But the longer you sit in silence, the more angry you get. Not at Fred. But at yourself. If you had known about what he wanted, what Fred wanted, you could have avoided all of his heartbreak and pain. But instead, Fred fed into your fantasy, this dream, this hazy future of yours and you let him. “I’m crazy,” you laugh as Fred look up at you. “I’m crazy for thinking that my love could hold you.”

Fred shakes his head, “No, (Y/N). You’re not. I love you and I always will.”

“Please don’t tell me that,” you close your eyes and bite down on your bottom lip to prevent the tears from falling again. You couldn’t let yourself hope for a future that didn’t exist with Fred. “This was never going to work. I’m crazy for trying,” you breath out before standing and brushing yourself off, Fred rising with you. “I’m crazy for crying,” you wipe away the remaining tears on your face.

Fred walks over to you as you place your hand on the door. “(Y/N),” he starts, “I never wanted us to end like this. You mean so much to me and I can’t just let you go like this,” he starts crying again, but you have to peel your eyes away. “We want to different things and we both deserve to be happy. Don’t you think?” he asks you. But his question sounded like he needed the reassurance from you. That he needed you to tell him that you agreed. To make it seem like you both wanted this break up.

Looking at Fred once more before you leave, you say, “We do want different things. You want your dream and I want you. But I can’t pretend like I’m happy that we are going our separate ways.” Fred nods his head, wiping his tears away. “I need space. And time. Away from you, Fred.”

And with that, you leave his room and start down the stairs back to your dormitory. You hide your face as best as you can from passing Gryffindor students, trying to be as incognito as possible. As you walk back to your room, you can’t help but think back on all of the happier times that you and Fred shared and think was it a lie? Was it all for show? It would be something that would keep you up at night.

You were crazy about Fred Weasley, that was for certain. But even crazier for loving someone who didn’t want you as badly as you wanted them.

Walking up the stairs, you look out the window to see the fresh spring countryside. Admits all the chaos, the flowers were still blooming, the grass still growing, and the sun still shining. Spring was still here and new as ever. The snow had melted away to reveal the fruitful, lush land. A new start. Maybe it was time for you to have one too.

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wrctings · 3 years ago

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Jean Kirschtein x reader | Friends, or is it more?

the more i watch aot, the more i love jean... his moments of self-doubt and his moved smile truly are heart-wrenching 🥺

fandom: Attack on Titan pairing: Jean Kirschtein x reader summary: Where you realise that you’re falling for your best friend, whose heart is already taken—or so you thought. Fortunately, what becomes a saddening party can also turn into an unexpected occasion to make things right. word count: 3.3k

Sometimes, belonging to the Scouts regiment came with something that, from up close, resembled a flicker of momentary joy. You had, of course, been aware of the harrowing shadow of a reputation that trudged behind the wings of liberty: danger, death and despair; the three Ds accompanying your pledge to humanity drummed their deafening beat alongside your horse's frenzied gallop whenever you took place in the formation that led you outside the walls, the wind hurling through your hair and your senses at the height of their tension, ready to signal the approach of a titan at any given minute, bracing your body for every possible threat. You had faith in commander Erwin, had faith in your comrades—if giving your life was necessary for your cause, then, you had silently promised yourself and your people, you would give it with eyes wide open and undefeated fierceness, be it in the heat of battle or any other way. The wings embroidered upon your cape represented your beliefs more intensely than any word—as long as there was a Scout left, hope would live still; blossom upon the tall grass that freely grew upon the tombs of your fallen comrades. Even the smallest victory made you believe that a change could be made—and even the smallest victory was celebrated in the battalion as a sign that bode well for the foreseeable future. It was such celebrations, though as small as the victories they marked, that made room for moments of joy the regiment could barely encounter at other times. And when those moments came, life suddenly appeared coated with a hundred colours, full of humorous idiocies and heedless amusement that stirred up in you all the youthful glee of not caring about a thing in the world but the people around you and the drink in your hand.

"You guys won't believe the position we found Bertholdt in this morning!"

Seated beside Armin, who himself flanked Eren as Mikasa had naturally settled on the other side of their childhood friend, you leaned further on the wooden table of the barrack in order to hear your brunet friend more distinctly, his excited voice reviving the conversation at once. Drawn by a cheerful and carefree sort of curiosity, which was well fueled by the general bright mood, finding out about Bertholdt's daily sleeping position suddenly appeared like the most fascinating event one could discuss, especially when followed by the boys' weather previsions based on their comrade's often strange and tangled up poses. You exchanged an amused look with Mikasa, and though your friend's features remained almost as impassive as usual, the vivid twinkle you caught through the dark shine of her eyes mirrored your cheery behaviour; Armin's face, on the other hand, wore an expressive smile, the blond boy remembering vividly the description of Bertholdt that Eren began recounting.

But even as you laughed at the image of Bertholdt's knees somehow managing to stay bent as he slept on his stomach, the upper part of his legs outstretched toward the sky in an unusual—to say the least—position, your gaze went on sweeping the room, in search of the one person you couldn't wait to chat with again, though you also got along really well with Armin, Mikasa and Eren. The only problem was, said person was not that fond of the self-righteous brunet ball of energy sat at your table, so you were not surprised to find him in Conny and Sasha's company instead, talking animatedly. You had already had the opportunity to chat with Jean earlier that evening, the two of you having grown so close to each other that it would've been impossible for you not to cross paths tonight, but you wondered whether you would drift toward each other again before the makeshift party came to an end; Captain Levi had been surprisingly unbothered by your shy request to celebrate today's mission's success, accepting it on the sole condition that only soft drinks were to be consumed—Armin suspected that Commander Erwin was responsible for granting the new recruits' wishes, as they had after all already endured quite a lot during the expedition to retrieve Eren from Annie.

"We better watch out for that sleeping position of Bertholdt's, maybe it means good luck," Armin observed lightheartedly, taking a sip from his drink.

"You should keep a notebook with all of them, and maybe you'll crack the code someday," you added with a chuckle, the three of you glancing at Bertholdt.

Having your 104th comrades with you in the Scouts regiment really did bring you a lot of comfort to help you navigate these new uncharted waters, though it also made it acutely unbearable to imagine that some of them might not make it back next time; Marco served as your first and most painful lesson that even those dearest to you were never safe. It was after the freckled boy's death that you and Jean had truly bonded, brought together by the devastating loss of your kindhearted friend. You had become each other's rocks since then—checking up on each other after training sessions and expeditions, playful teasing and calling each other all sorts of funny nicknames rooted into the core of your friendship, giving it all its strength. And it was when you had been injured during the 57th expedition and Jean had almost hysterically ran up to you afterwards, cursing with no restraint and holding your arm so tightly it hurt when he helped you limp toward the medical wing, that you had been hit for the first time, though still shaken from slaying a titan and the bloody cut burning your leg, by how grateful you were to have made it out alive, to have Jean by your side. It was then that you had realised that there was no one else you would rather be with than him—it was something more than anything you've ever felt before, as your timidly pounding heart had been reminding you ever since.

But another thing unavoidable when being friends with Jean, of course, was the bickering between your comrade and Eren—and this evening was no different from any other week. A few minutes later, as you engaged in a pleasant conversation with Armin, your attention was drawn by the thunderous eruption of voices that suddenly shook the walls of the barrack, making many pairs of surprised eyes turn toward the belligerent protagonists of the argument. It just had to be Eren and Jean, hadn't it? Like the rest of your comrades, you couldn't possibly guess where the spark that ignited this new inferno came from, but with these two, a valid reason often wasn't needed; to the greatest despair of the 104th, both boys possessed magic powers to summon reasons to fight out of thin air. At the present moment, both Eren and Jean were actively yelling at each other, shooting names and accusations back and forth.

However, the lack of rational incidents to cause such a scene didn't mean that there was no deeper reason for Jean's outbursts, just like Eren's counter-attacks originated from his legendary stubbornness already well-known to his fellow comrades. You had been suspecting for a long time that Jean mainly proclaimed his hatred towards Eren because of Mikasa. Before the 57th expedition, when both of you were in a playful and mischievous mood, you would even friendlily tease Jean about his soft spot for the dark haired young woman, which he hadn't hidden very well ever since Mikasa and he met for the first time. It was quite unfortunately, really, that your heart had finally chosen Jean, of all people, to fall for—as if you weren't well aware of how much he admired and liked Mikasa! And this mascarade surely had to have been orchestrated to get her attention, just like many other failed schemes of Jean's, as Mikasa barely seemed interested in anyone but Eren, Armin, sometimes Sasha, and you.

"There he goes again..." You muttered downheartedly, sparing a glance at your best friend.

"It's Eren and Jean, after all..." Armin responded with a sorry smile, squirming on the bench to get further away from Eren, who was now up on his feet and facing Jean with balled up fists. Mikasa watched the two boys through squinted eyes, at the ready to jump and knock over Jean if needed—at least, your friend's plan to get her attention had succeeded.

"I know how this is going to end," you told Armin under your breath, averting your gaze from the fighters. "You know what, I think it's right about time for me to head off. I don't want to witness Captain Levi tearing their heads off for wrecking havoc in here."

"Really? Don't you want to stay a little longer? I'm sure it won't come to this!"

"I don't even want to know. Goodnight, Armin, thank you for the nice chat," you excused yourself, fleeing from the barrack swift as a cat, only the passage of a furtive ray of light on the floor signifying that the door to the room had been opened as quickly as it was closed.

You knew better than to cling onto something you could not reach, so why endure the spectacle of such a foolish play?

Outside, nighttime had descended upon the camp with its soothing quietness. Nothing in sight but the warm flutter of torches fixed upon the barracks; nothing ringing in your ears but the chirping melody of a cricket's song, its echo delicately carried away by the evening wind. No ecstatic shouting, no blaring laughter. Nothing but a lone constellation half-veiled by the grey trail of clouds that unhurriedly floated upon the dark depths of the sky. No Jean, no Eren. You took a lungful of fresh air before a long sigh lifted off your chest—if only things could go back to the way they had been. Back when Jean was nothing but a fun and (sweetly) annoying horse-faced boy to be around, and no cause for heartache.

You took some more steps ahead, the muffled sounds you could still hear from inside dying out as you walked further away. Although you had told Armin that your time to go had come, you didn't feel like getting back to bed right now; actually, you didn't feel like anything but escaping for a little while.

At last, you decided to retrace your steps, taking a seat on the ground beside the barrack you had abandoned, your back pressed against its wooden surface. On the other side, the cacophony hadn't ceased, only muffled by the wall that separated you from the inside mayhem. Had Jean and Eren opted for a fistfight denouement by now? Would Mikasa intervene?

But before you had enough time to explore the many scenarios your imagination could sketch out, the door beside which you had settled opened abruptly, a wide stream of light flooding the ground at once. In the blink of an eye, a visibly disconcerted figure appeared on the threshold, freezing as they took a look around before rapidly bifurcating to the side in order to follow one of the torchlit paths...

"Jean?"

"Y/n?! What are you doing here?" Jean rushed toward you as soon as he noticed your silhouette from behind the shadows, discovering your hiding-place. "I didn't even see you leave..."

"I'm sorry, I was starting to feel tired." Touched by the fact that Jean had left the room to look for you, you attempted to give him a plausible excuse.

"C'mon, you can get through a day of training, but you can't get through one of the only party nights we're lucky enough to have?" Jean taunted, taking a seat next to you. "What's the matter?" he gently elbowed you, throwing his neck back so he could press his head against the wall behind. "Just when I was about to defeat Eren..."

"Defeat Eren, really? Statistically, it's more likely for Captain Levi to smile than for us to see that happen," you laughed tiredly, trying not to think about how Jean would probably soon get back to Mikasa and the others.

"Yeah, yeah, tease me all you want, it'll happen. Someday this idiot will get his ass handed to him."

Closing your eyes, you only had it in you to maintain the forced smile painted over your lips while fighting back the rush of stinging tears that suddenly overwhelmed you. Why did Jean had to come and check up on you now of all times, right when you were more than ever convinced that you were starting to fall for him, and it couldn't be clearer that his every move longed for someone else?

"You know, I was going to get him, but Mikasa can get scary..." It was as if he could decipher the riddles of your mind, unaware of the way your heart convulsed. "I wouldn't want to cross her. Why would she hang out with this idi—"

"Look, Jean, if you've come here to rant about this, then you can leave," you ended up snapping, biting back more acre words . "I'm tired, okay? Just get back to the fun inside."

"You... You don't feel like talking?" Jean's voice softened from incomprehension, trying to read your tone. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was that bad. Hey, you really don't want to talk?"

You shook your head in response, scolding your own self for such pathetic behaviour. Jean couldn't possibly know about your suppressed feelings, so your attitude must indeed appear more than confusing, especially since you were so used to confiding in each other and cheering each other up, for the past weeks more than ever. In the wake of Icarus's ascend towards the sun, untethered and naive, your wings of wax were melting... But who could've predicted, as much as a month earlier, that the loveable idiot by your side would doom you to downfall?

"Okay... Well...," the young man ran a distracted hand through his hair, frowning as his jaw clenched. "Then I'll talk. You know, I had an idea for tonight," he began after collecting his thoughts, breaking through the hesitant seconds that had temporarily numbed his tongue. "It was our first successful expedition after that near-death experience after all, so I thought I'd better make the most of it and make tonight's celebration useful. Who knows when we'll get another one. Maybe you're right and it's actually more likely to see Captain Levi smile than to get another one of these again soon." Jean's speech ran freely now, his torrent of sentences—for the moment still not making clear sense as to where they were headed to—submerging you in the familiar flow of his voice. As of late, your greatest fear had become to miss its distress call in the ranging mist of a battle, to watch Jean's body be torn to shreds as you could only scream until everything else vanished... "So I thought I'd be brave, for once." He took a deep breath in, fingers nervously wrapped around the back of his own neck. "There's this person I like."

There it was. Somehow, you knew that it would be coming—after the stunt he pulled earlier with Eren...

"They're much braver than I am, but they probably know that already," Jean went on, chuckling self-depreciatingly—he knew he could poke at himself in your company without being ashamed of disclosing his flaws. "They wouldn't hesitate to come and rescue me, even if I were grabbed by a titan. And they're really beautiful, too—"

"Look, Jean, if you've come to talk about Mikasa, just save it," you could only murmur. "Pl—"

"And, quite surprisingly, they're also a dumbass!" Jean didn't let you finish either, shifting his head so he could see your face better. "But that's something both of us have in common." Taken aback by such a strange confession, you opened your eyes to take an intrigued look at Jean while hoping that he wouldn't notice the tears you had at last blinked away. You met his gaze head-on, even among the shadows that coiled over his face. "Because they think that I still have a thing for a girl I liked for two weeks, while I've been talking about them all along."

"What—"

"You know, you're the one who makes being called "horse-face" the funniest," Jean cracked an unsure smile at you, fiddling with his hands. "Alright, it's the bravest I'll ever be, so time to crawl in a hole and die now," he immediately added more anxiously, looking like the unexpected nature of his confession had stricken him for the first time.

"Wait, Jean, no!" It was as if, for the first time in a span of unending minutes, you could breathe again. "Wait, is this... Is this for real?" You asked in what came out almost a whisper, fearing, in this instant where your hopes balanced on the edge of a precipice of churning doubt and elation, that this was a joke you would not be able to forgive. Jean was better than this, but what if?—the thought drilled into your heart.

"Well... Yes. I'm sorry if I've made things awkward, it's Armin who told you might like me too and—"

"Hey, hey," your hand found its way to Jean's arm in a comforting touch, preventing him from leaving as he made a move to flee after blurting out an apology. Judging by your frantic heartbeat, there was no way you could be the calmer person in this situation—and yet, Jean somehow managed to look even more distressed than you at the moment. "I do like you." It was your turn to get embarrassed, which your flushed cheeks openly betrayed, illuminated by the nearby torch's flitting flame. "But Mikasa...?"

"Y/n, I haven't liked Mikasa for longer than a few weeks. I mean, yes, she's beautiful and strong, but so are you. And you're so much more than that. You're so fun to be around, I haven't laughed so hard with anyone but you. Unlike me, you're not scared to be brave and kind, but with you, I don't need to think which face I need to put on, because I know we don't have to pretend to be someone we're not when we're around each other. And when you got injured... I couldn't stand the thought of losing you. I made myself a promise then that I would tell you, and tonight seemed like the right time. I've been talking to Armin after the expedition and I think he kind of guessed that I liked you, and that you liked me too—I don't even know how or why, but he told me he thought you did. That's not exactly how I thought it'd go but... Trying to get your attention by getting in a fight with Eren wasn't that good of a plan, I guess."

"So that's what it was...! You really are an idiot, Jean Kirschtein," you declared vivaciously, but the moved smile that brightened your face spoke louder than the fond insults Jean and you would fire at each other. "We need to watch out for Armin, he will uncover everyone's secrets, at this rate..." You joked before regaining a more serious attitude, your emotions truly swayed by your friend's avowal. "The expedition changed everything for me too. I realised that I didn't want to go without you. No, I realised that I didn't want to go at all—I wanted to stay. With you."

"Pff, get in line," Jean grinned in spite of the emotional look on his face, sighing in relief. "I've been liking you for months."

"Seriously?"

"Absolutely. Do you think I go out of my way to check up on everyone after a battle or that everyone's mom gets the privilege of being the centre of my skilfully crafted jokes?"

"Shut up," you laughed wholeheartedly, your shoulder against Jean's. "Your mom's a hoe."

"Very clever," he teased you in return, face glowing from a joy even more vivd than the fiery sparks that chased the night's spectres away. “I bang yours every night.”

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes—mom jokes were a must in your goofy friendship. A friendship that, with a bit of unpredicted luck, was on the verge of becoming something more.

#jean kirschtien #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein imagines #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #snk x reader #snk imagines #writing #snk fanficition

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vina-writes · 4 years ago

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Flooded

Written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: Flood.

Rating: G

Length: 1.8k

Summary: The water came late in the settling dusk. The last peaceful image that night was of glowing thatched rooftops.

Notes: Thank you so much @fw00shy and @phenomenalasterisk for betaing!!

(i)

The water came late in the settling dusk. It had rained for days, heavy sheets of downpour ripping up the freshly planted crops and washing the grass down to a smooth, mud-caked finish. The sun had just peeked through, and Harry watched it set from his doorstep. The last peaceful image that night was of glowing thatched rooftops.

It started silent and quick, and then all at once, it was roaring. The river had been rising all day, but this torrent rushed down from the mountains in a frothing, dirty-brown wave, carrying rocks and trees and carving its way across the valley.

Harry heard it last. By the time he awoke, the water was soaking through his mattress and the shouts were rising in the night. He took what he could find in the dark, settled Lily over his shoulder, and climbed into the hills without looking back. The others should have done the same—Molly Weasley and her brood, the Creeveys, the Grangers, the Longbottoms and Lovegoods, the Finnigans and MacMillans.

Harry waited for them until morning. The sun broke on the hilltops, spilling over the mountain range. The birds sang in the stillness, and he waited. Lily drank from her bottle, too young to graze on the grass. He rubbed her soft lamb ears and waited.

Noon, and no one.

Draco found him this way at dusk. He came quietly, like the flood. Harry heard the soft footsteps behind him, and when he turned, hoping beyond hope, it was only to see the rumoured herbalist. They cast him out years ago—his practice was deviant. Molly feared witchcraft.

“Hello,” Draco said. “Has the village finally grown so dull as to stop using maps? Are directions considered magic now, too?”

“What?” Harry asked, too grief-stricken for anything else.

“Are you lost?”

“I—no.” Harry turned to look at the valley, at the copse of trees that hid the flooded road from view. “There was a flood.”

Draco was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was soft with understanding.

“Your leg is injured,” he said. “And your lamb is hungry. You can stay with me, if you like.”

Harry had nowhere else to go.

Draco’s cottage itself was flooded—flooded with dried herbs and jars and knitted blankets. A fire burned brightly in a holly-decked hearth, and he beckoned Harry over to it, laying out a nest of soft cloths for Lily. Draco left them there with water and fresh bread, but when he returned, Harry flinched away from the needle in his hands.

“It won’t heal otherwise,” Draco said, nodding to the wide wound running up the inside of Harry’s calf. Harry let him come close, gritting his teeth all the while, but Draco poured strange potions over the torn skin until it grew numb. Harry couldn’t feel Draco’s hands as he stitched, but he swore his skin grew hot nonetheless at every touch.

That night, when Draco warmed their blankets by the fire and fed them all milk and honey, Harry didn’t feel the grief quite so keenly.

Their routine the first few days was stilted. Harry was wary of Draco’s craft, still carrying the ache of his lost home, and Draco was insulted by his avoidance. But Harry was also grateful for Draco’s help and food, and intrigued by his life. Intrigued by Draco himself, if he was honest, and the way he could be so sharp one minute and so cheerful the next. Above all, however, Draco was kind—no matter his words, he was always gentle with Lily, and patient when Harry cut himself chopping wood or broke one of his many jars.

Perhaps it was that patience and curiosity that bridged the unspoken space between them. Draco took him to the meadows near his cottage and showed him how to knit, and in the sunlight his fingers took on a life of their own. Harry watched them move and felt the startling urge to catch them in his hand, to hold them close like something precious. He looked away and wove his fingers through the grass instead.

Draco had a cow, too. Her name was Daisy, and when she licked Lily’s small head, her tongue covered her from nose to ears. She lived in a stable set against the side of the cottage. Harry took to milking her in the meadows each day. One such bright morning he spotted chamomile among the flowers, and he plucked bunches of it until the milk bucket was overflowing with stems. Draco made tea from them and they drank it together on the single bed that night, Lily curled up between them. When they fell asleep, close together on the pillow, his breath smelled of chamomile and honey.

The days passed, and with each new dawn Harry felt himself heal. Draco applied poultices to his leg until not even a scar remained, and every night they took turns feeding Lily, letting her lick stray milk off their hands. Draco’s laugh when she tickled him was musical, high and contagious, and the way his cheeks bunched up when he smiled made Harry want to kiss them.

That was fine on its own—his growing desire for Draco’s body. That was manageable. What was worse was the days when Draco was sullen, when his herbs over-brewed or he slept poorly, and he spent the day snapping at Harry in increasingly creative ways. When Harry still thought to bring him meadow flowers, when he happily made dinner if only to see the appreciation on Draco’s face, that was when he began to worry. Because love showed itself in many ways, but with Draco, it began to show itself everywhere.

Draco took him upstream one afternoon, to a hidden pool fed by a tumbling waterfall. He wordlessly let Harry hold his hand as they dipped their fingers in the soft spray, and though Harry’s heart was racing, he found he could wash his feet in the stream. With Draco there, it didn’t remind him so much of a wet mattress beneath his back and swirling water on his floorboards.

Later, Harry found a crystal in the moss—clear and six-sided, with a vibrant rainbow down the center. Draco’s cheeks flushed red when Harry gave it to him, and he called Harry names as he wrapped it carefully in cloth and stowed it in a pocket next to his heart. Harry admitted to himself that he might be in love.

Two months after that fateful rain, a mare found her way to their cottage. Harry recognized her dappled grey pelt straight away—she was a draft horse, strong and well-trained, one of the Lovegoods’ herd. There was a bridle in Draco’s stable, and Harry fitted it to her before he fed her, brushing out her long mane and her shiny coat.

When he showed her to Draco, however, his expression soured and he sniffed, muttering about expenses and food. He took his basket and left shortly after, and the jars rattled from the way he slammed the door.

Harry waited until evening before he followed Draco. He didn’t understand what could possibly be wrong—a mare would make their work twice as easy, and she could graze with Daisy long into the fall months—but he refused to leave Draco to wander the dark alone.

By the time Harry found him on their hilltop, the sun was setting across the valley. It painted the fields gold, and Draco’s hair shone like silk in the fading light. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, his head rested on them, and it hit Harry then that he must have been barely twenty, too young to paint such a lonely picture on the mountaintop. It made Harry want to hold him close and promise him countless things, if only to see him smile.

“Are you still upset?” he asked instead as he sat beside Draco. There was no immediate reply. “I don’t think she’ll be a burden. We could name her Rose, or Buttercup. Then we’d have a whole bouquet.”

Draco shrugged slightly, but his head was still turned away.

“I’ll make tea at home and introduce you,” Harry said, feigning a cheerfulness he wasn’t feeling. “We can sit on the hay and feed Lily honey milk. You like it when she sucks on your fingers.”

“Is that my goodbye gift, then?” Draco finally said stiffly.

Harry stared at him. Opened his mouth, but was unsure what to say. When Draco offered for him to stay, he’d thought that meant—he didn’t know what he’d thought. He hadn’t thought of their time together as limited. He didn’t want it to be limited. He wanted—Harry couldn’t even think it, in the face of what Draco seemed to be telling him.

“Has my welcome ended?” he said carefully. Draco finally looked at him, and Harry noticed that his cheeks were streaked with dried tears, shiny against his pale skin.

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?” Harry shot back. Draco frowned at him.

“You have a horse,” he said, as if that explained everything. “You have a horse, Harry. A horse can get you to the nearest town, to the city if you wish. I’ll understand if you take Lily—she’ll give you wool to sell, at some point, and she’s light. I can—I can give you some money to start, too—it’s just a little, but I—”

“Draco,” Harry said, aghast, “what on earth do you think is happening?”

Draco’s frown slowly changed to confusion. “You’re leaving, of course.”

“Do you want that?” A warm hope was spreading in Harry’s chest. He knew the answer, based on Draco’s unsubtle mood, but he wanted to hear it.

Draco stayed silent for a moment, picking at the grass. “You need to look elsewhere if you want to seek success for yourself. You have the means to do that.”

“Who says there’s no success for me here?”

“You—Harry, there’s nothing here,” Draco said slowly, as if it were obvious. “There’s no one, nothing. You have a horse. You can go—you can make a future for yourself.”

“But I’m doing that right now,” Harry said. “And there is someone. Although he’s being rather obtuse at the moment, throwing a strop about something that’s not a problem.”

Draco looked him squarely in the eyes, and there was fear in his expression, the first Harry had ever seen on him. “You’ll tire of me.”

“I won’t.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can,” Harry said firmly. “I can, because you’re acting like a woebegotten widow right now, and I still want to do this.”

He leaned over and kissed Draco softly in the dying light. Draco’s hands came up to cup his face, smelling of earth and grass.

“I don’t,” Draco admitted quickly as soon as they parted, his voice thick. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m home,” Harry said gently. “Where else would I go?”

Draco kissed him again. And by the time Harry found it in himself to pull away from Draco’s lips, even for a brief moment, the stars had already come out. But they had all the time in the world.

Read on Ao3

#vina writes #drarrymicrofic #drarry #drarry fanfic #flood

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jadedxrealityw · 4 years ago

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-Secret Admirer- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader.

♡~🐍~♡

Request: Hello, are your orders open? Could you write to Draco? Where is he in love with a Hufflepuff girl and starts sending small gifts as a secret admirer? She thinks it's a joke, but then likes to find out who he is. Could it be a cute and happy thing?

Kody- YESSSS

Warning: nervous Draco, possible cursing and Blaise, Theo, and Pansy making fun of Draco for being a pussy.

House: Hufflepuff

♡~🐍~♡

“Draco your drooling” Theo says, the other two laugh as the flustered platinum blond face flushes. “Seriously, why don’t you- you know? Ask her out?” Blaise cuts in, crossing his arms “Yeah! You’ve been friends for what three months now. Sooner or later someone else is going to sweep her off her feet”

Draco looked at the three and sighed “It’s not that easy okay! She’s just so kind and sweet and i’m so-”

“rude?”

“angry?”

“scary?”

the blond rolls his eyes “i was going to say terrified, but yes thank you for the words of encouragement. I feel the love” he says, tone laced in sarcasm. Pansy chuckles “Terrified? of what?” “oh, i don’t know. Maybe rejection Parkinson?” he snaps, making her roll her eyes

“oh! start sending her love letters in secret!” Theo speaks up, making the platinum blond boy sigh deeply “What is that supposed to accomplish?” he says harshly “When she gets the letter, see how she reacts” he shrugs. Draco thinks for a moment and a small smile graces his lips.

“That’s not a bad idea Nott”

♡~🐍~♡

you were packing up your potions textbook as class ended when a flying paper dove landed right on your desk. You raise a brow and look up to see multiple students walking out of class, so you couldn’t tell who sent you it. YOu shrug your shoulders before grabbing the dove from your desk.

you begin to unfold it and a small white flower falls out onto your bag. Ignoring it for a moment you finish unfolding it and smile at the words.

‘You way you walked into class today with your bright smile almost made my heart thump out of my chest -?’

you raise a brow and flip it over. No signature. Was this a love letter. You smile at the words as you grab the flower and smell it’s fresh scent. What a funny joke. Not. You place the letter in your bag and hold the flower as you sling the bag over your shoulder and walk out.

♡~🐍~♡

you were in the library looking for a novel that been checked out the whole month. As you gazed through the shelves, you saw the title on the spine of a book and grabbed it. You smiled and flipped through the books, a letter falling out of it and onto the ground.

you raise a brow and bend down to pick it up from the ground. You spot the handwriting and sighed. Alright then.

‘I want to recreate every romantic scene you want in this book, only if you allow me too’

you smile at the words, before raising a brow. How did they know you were going to check out this book, on this day. Maybe it was a strange coincidence? You grab the note and fold it up, sticking it in your pocket. You were now very curious on who this person was.

♡~🐍~♡

as you flipped through your book, you felt someone tap your shoulder “Cedric?” he smiles lightly and places a small box of chocolate frogs on the couch next to you, along with a note “What’s this?” you ask, closing the novel you were reading on your lap.

“Someone left them outside the common room door. Had your name on it so figured it was yours” he shrugs. You pick up the note seeing none other than your name on it. Opening you see the same handwriting as the other note.

‘Just some sweets to show how sweet you are -?’

you sigh, holding the letter up to show him “Aw Y/n as a secret admirer” Cedric teases and you roll your eyes “I don’t want somebody i don’t know spending money on me. It makes me feel bad” you protest and he chuckles “Only you would worry about that”

♡~🐍~♡

after that, you got sweets and small presents every day for a whole week and as much as you liked the compliments, you didn’t like not being able to pay the person back. You wanted to thank them for there nice gesture and also wanted to let whoever was sending you the letter know you weren’t interested.

yeah, you had the biggest crush on Draco Malfoy, but lately he had been busy so you found a slight comfort in the compliments the letters gave you, but you wished he would say those things to you. To your face, while holding your hand and looking into your eyes with his grey ones. Wow. You fell hard.

the next day you were in the great hall eating a chocolate chip muffin that one of your friends had made. As you were about to take another bite, your owl came flying down towards the table. You look up and watch as it drops a letter and a pack of sugar quills.

“Oh, look at Y/n. Your boyfriend send you something else?” some Hufflepuff said out loud and the table erupts in laughter. You sigh and harshly open the letter

‘I love how nice you are to everyone around you even to people who don’t deserve it. Just like i don’t deserve your love’

as you read the words your eyes widened. Oh. OH! You knew exactly who this person was. The only one who you told about the book you wanted to check out to the the same words you had heard so long ago. You close the letter and look down.

♡~🐍~♡

as the Hufflepuffs laughed, Draco felt his chest tighten “Oh no” he mumbles while the other three slowly nod “Yeah, nice going there Malfoy” Blaise pats his back with a smile. Draco hits his arm away and hits his head on the table. “I didn’t know they would laugh at her”

“Your going to have to tell her now” Pansy says, making the boys eyes widened “No! I can never tell her now, she’ll hate me forever!” he shouts. The other Slytherins looked at him weirdly and he very harshly pulls the hood of his robe over his head.

“Then talk to her as a friend. She’d want some comfort right now” Theo suggests. The two nod while Draco sighs, rubbing his face with his hand “Yeah i can do that”

♡~🐍~♡

sitting down in the courtyard, you flipped through your novel again. “Y/n?” you turn your head to see the one and only Draco Malfoy. You close your book slowly and place it down “Hey” you smile. He smiles back and takes a seat in the grass with you. “I’m sorry about what happened to you at lunch”

you narrow your eyes “you should be, considering you wrote them!” you shout and start to wack him with your book. Draco puts his arms up and grabs it quickly from you “What! How!” he shouts and you roll your eyes “Your the only person i told about my book!”

“also! You told me the exact same thing when i said i wanted to be friends. That you didn’t deserve me” you shout back. Draco looks down in shame and groans “I wanted to tell you, but i was avoiding this. You thinking i was weird and hating me because i have feelings for you”

you sigh softly. ‘this guy’ you thought. You reach into your bag and grab his letters and hand them to him “Your right about one thing. I do think your weird”you say and watch as he frowns “But not because that you like me, but because you didn’t tell me in person”

his brows furrow as he looks you in the eyes “I like you too, you big idiot Draco Malfoy” his face changes into one of happiness as he drops the letters, grabbing your face and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. It’s your turn for your eyes to widened. It takes a second for your hands to grab at his robe and pull him closer.

you feel him smile against your lips as he deepens your exchange. He pulls away and looks back down on the letters “I knew i shouldn’t have listened to Nott” he chuckles. You laugh and nod your head “Yeah that was your first mistake”

♡~🐍~♡

Kody- i’m so mad that this is crap, it makes me wanna cry, but i swear i tried. Anyways, peace.

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jamiemackenziefraser · 4 years ago

Text

All That Was Fair

Chapter 27: Fraser Publishing Part 2

Summary: Claire and Jamie finish out their day at work

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Read chp 27 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

a/n: A huge thank you to my friend @isthisclever (/isthiscleverr on twitter ;) ) for being an amazing beta for this chapter and also dealing with my writer's block/overall overthinking <3. Go check out her story "The Other Side," which one of my favs and is almost completed, ahh! While you're at it, maybe just stalk her whole AO3 page.

Thank you so much for your patience, lovely readers. I managed to get past the writer's block, and this 5k if what just sorta happened after a month of not writing. Hope you like it!!

Chapter 27: Fraser Publishing Part 2

The air felt heavy despite the fresh scents and slight breeze. Hand in hand with Claire, Jamie walked slowly around the trail that wound its way in a meandering circle around the park. If he was being honest, he was stalling, trying to give them both time to gather themselves before going back to Fraser Publishing. Jamie couldn't ignore the grief tugging at his insides, but he forced it down deep, praying that Claire couldn’t feel it from where she held onto his hand like it was her lifeline.

Oh Christ, if she could feel how his grief was eating him up inside...

A cloud hung over them for a long while, but Jamie was trying his best to reassure Claire with comforting touches and sweet words.Gradually, her face began to lift, and he caught sight of the spark of his faerie beneath the sheen of guilt and lost potential blanketing her face. It was still clearly on her mind, though, and Jamie couldn’t shake the discomfort that he was trying to shove itself forward from the pit of his stomach and the back of his mind.

It was well past lunchtime and when he should have taken her back, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to force her to go inside when she still seemed so… off.

Apparently that was the right decision because at one random moment, Claire stopped him and abruptly pulled him into a hug.

“What was that for, my wee faerie?” Jamie asked, brushing a few stray curls away from her forehead after holding her for a long moment.

“I love you,” she said simply.

There clearly was more on her mind. In that moment, he didn’t know whether to push her or to leave her be. He tilted his head down, catching her gaze, praying silently that he was making the right decision.

“What’s botherin’ ye, a leannan?” he asked. He slipped his fingers under her chin and lifted her face higher so he could press a soft kiss to her lips.

“I just..” she started, but cut herself off to take a deep breath. “I just… I don’t know how to tell you how I’m feeling, Jamie. I’m sad. But also I’m so, so happy. I want to be with you, be happy with you—” she tugged on his hand which was still gripping hers “—forever. I just… want it to last, I suppose?”

“It will, Sassenach,” he assured in an exhale. “It will, lass.

“I,” her eyes filled with unshed tears, and Jamie wished he could take them all in the palm of his hand and keep them from spilling from her eyes. She didn’t cry, though, just blinked watery eyes up at him. “I know we haven’t talked much about… the rest of our lives… but— talking about not having babies today just made me think. Maybe... maybe I’m not meant to be forever for you?”

Jamie’s heart dropped below his toes, sinking down through the grass beneath his feet and likely down into the very core of the earth. He could barely force the words out through his suddenly raw throat when he asked shakily, “Do… do you no’ want that, Claire?”

She shook her head so violently that the curls swished back and forth over her face. The expression of horror at the question eased Jamie considerably, and her answer fully assuaged the rest of the rising panic.

“I do want that, Jamie. From the second I ran to you from that hill I knew it was forever. I love you more than the life that was mine. I just… if that’s not what’s best for you, I wouldn’t take the rest of your life from you. Your dreams.” It was her turn to raise a hand to his face, cupping his cheek with oceans of tender, selfless concern swimming in her eyes.

“It’s always been forever for me, Sassenach,” he told her firmly, voice low. He believed it with every bone in his body. “And I told you before, I have no life but you, Claire.”

She blinked, and he could tell she was trying very hard not to break down into tears.

If he could have, he would have gotten down on one knee and proposed to her then and there. He knew it was forever, and he wanted desperately to share that with her, but there were conversations that needed to be had and preparations to be made before he could.

He let go of her hand and raised both to her face. He held her between his hands, cradling his whole entire world between his palms. Beseeching her to listen, he held her gaze for a long moment.

“I dinna have to be an empath like you to ken that ye’re still feelin’ guilty, mo ghraidh,” he said. “Please, listen to me. I wouldna tell ye this if it werena true.” He took a breath. “If you could gi’ up yer old life, yer people, yer home… for me... it is nothin’ for me to no’ be able to have biological children. I would trade everything I have to keep ye. Everything. And I wouldna think twice. I want ye forever, Sassenach, whatever that means.”

Her cheek was so soft under his fingers, and he was startled to find wetness there. He glanced up to her eyes to find that she’d finally lost her control and tears were escaping to roll down her face.

“Please, dinna cry anymore,” he pleaded, “I canna bear for ye to be in pain.”

“I’m not crying because I’m sad, Jamie,” she whispered. “I’m crying because I love you.”

***

Walking back inside Fraser’s Publishing some time later, Claire seemed much more at peace. She no longer visibly waged war inside herself, and Jamie felt like he could finally breathe. The heartache they’d shared was far from over, but at least its troubles for that day could be left outside in the park.

As they came inside, they were greeted by Mrs. Crook, who immediately beckoned them over to her desk with an eager wave.

“Claire, darling! I have some homemade cookies I thought ye might like to try…”

“That’s verra kind, but she has food allergies, Mrs. Crook. She doesna accept food from anyone,” Jamie quickly cut in.

“Oh, well,” Mrs. Crook looked back toward Claire again. “I saw ye wi’ the Murray weans earlier, dear. Maybe ye would be interested in seein’ some photographs of my darling grandbairns?”

The woman was clearly desperate to bond with Claire, and Jamie couldn’t help but feel proud to see how much of an impression his lass had made. Claire shot him a quick smile, giving him a nod and a look that said “I’ll be alright.”

“I’ll meet ye back in my office,” Jamie said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of her curls.

Before she could even reply to him, Mrs. Crook had snagged her arm and was herding her over to her desk, Claire good-naturedly following while blowing Jamie a kiss.

Leaving the ladies in peace, Jamie started toward his office. Before he’d even made it out of the reception area, however, he found himself face-to-face with Geneva Dunsany, forcing him to grind to a halt.

Geneva was one of the lower level staff members in marketing and a relatively new hire. Jamie usually only hired people he knew personally, but John had insisted on her as a favor to her father, a longtime family friend. Jamie didn’t know much about her other than that she was competent enough at her job that he never had to interact much.

But here in front of him stood the dark-haired lass, her face caked in makeup that was a shade too dark and her fake lashes blinking up at him.

“I wondered if I might have a moment,” she asked.

Jamie spared a glance behind him, checking that Claire was alright. Upon seeing her chatting away with Mrs. Crook over a picture on the reception desk (and hopefully not in immediate danger of revealing her secret), he turned back to Geneva.

“Of course. What can I do for ye?”

“I had a question about… Well, I thought I might ask you to have a look over some quarterly reports I’ve completed.”

As she was speaking, Jamie shot another look over his shoulder. He couldn’t help but worry about Claire when she wasn’t by his side, and he was impatient to get her tucked safely away in his office so he could finally get some real work done.

Geneva was clearly displeased by his less than courteous behavior.

“Mr. Fraser,” she sighed.

He turned back toward her, reminding himself of his dedication to his company— as distracted as he was, an employee didn’t deserve to be treated like this.

Geneva was already speaking again. “I was wondering if perhaps later today you could come by my office? Or I could come to yours?”

“Ms. Dunsany, I’m afraid I’m verra busy at the moment and I’ve lost a fair bit of time already… Perhaps ye could take it up wi’ John instead?”

“But…” her response faded from his attention as a familiar wee hand suddenly wrapped itself around his bicep and a body pressed flush against his side.

At Claire’s sudden appearance, Geneva cut herself off mid sentence, her painted mouth falling open into a disgruntled “o.”

“Hi, my love,” Claire all but purred to Jamie, giving his arm a squeeze. She tugged him slightly downward, enough so that she could stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek.

Jamie was left bewildered as one of her hands snaked over to plant itself firmly on the center of his chest and rub back and forth.

“Hi, mo ghraidh, ehm—” he struggled to find words as Claire gave him another kiss, this time to his shoulder. He could barely focus his mind as it seemed her hands were everywhere at once: stroking his chest, rubbing his arm. What the devil had gotten into her?

He finally remembered what he was trying to do, and managed out a weak, “This is Geneva, our…” her job title flew out the window as Claire’s hand went from his chest to hook into one of his belt loops on the opposite side, effectively stopping his heart and his brain in one simple motion.

“Geneva, this is Claire,” the words burst out in a rush with zero brain cells behind them as he desperately tried to fulfill his social duties in the face of his girlfriend’s advances.

He lowered his head to try to catch a glance at Claire’s face, to make eye contact and glean some sort of clue about what had gotten into her, but he found she wasn’t even looking at him. Instead, her eyes were fixed straight ahead, right on Geneva.

“Hello,” Geneva said, a hint of disapproval in her voice. She took a step back from them as her eyes flicked up and down.

“Hello,” Claire replied, but her tone made Jamie start. Never before had he heard his faerie— his joyful, bubbly, loves-everyone-without-discrimination faerie— sound so cold. Her voice was low and steady, without even a hint of smile.

Jamie’s brain went on high alert as Geneva reached a hand out for a handshake. They had rehearsed this in the car (not that Claire’d had a chance to use it yet with all the hugs she’d been giving out), but Jamie was worried that all the training had gone from her mind when she had apparently lost her marbles.

However, Claire removed her right hand from where it had been placed over Jamie’s stomach to reach out and clasp Geneva’s while keeping herself firmly glued to Jamie’s side.

He could feel her stiffen against him the moment the two lasses made contact, and then, as if a rubber band had been snapped, Claire withdrew her hand and turned to Jamie with a jerk.

“I need something from your… room, darling,” she said forcefully, clearly forgetting the word for office.

“Of course, a leannan, what do ye—”

Before he could finish getting out his question, Claire was stepping in front of him to drag him away. He allowed himself to be tugged off by his faerie, leaving behind a nonplussed and rather displeased looking Geneva.

When they got down the hall to his office, Claire all but shoved him inside. Jamie stumbled through as Claire shut the door behind them. He was just beginning to ask, “What the devil has gotten into ye—?” when Claire was suddenly on top of him, her lips claiming his so insistently that it was almost an attack rather than a kiss.

His words were muffled by her lips, and he found himself getting shoved up against a wall as she took his mouth. All protestations died in his throat and her strange behavior was wiped from his mind as her kiss clouded his senses, filling him so entirely. He let her tangle her fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to her, and he didn’t resist even as she tugged hard and her tongue swiped into his mouth.

He was fairly certain that she would be the death of him, but he was more than willing to die of asphyxiation if it meant that her lips wouldn’t leave his. Her mouth pressed hot against his, demanding and consuming. Still, as his lungs screamed for air, and he urgently squeezed her waist where his hands were resting.

She tore her lips away, gasping for breath, and then stood there, panting. She was quite a sight. Her hair was mussed, lips puffy, and her eyes held a hard look, darker than he’d ever seen them before.

What the hell?

“What— what was that?” Jamie gasped, barely able to find his breath. Claire had clearly stolen it from him during that heated kiss, right along with his wits and perhaps even his free will.

“You’re mine,” Claire said hotly, drawing closer again so her body could press against his as she said it. Her eyes blazed as they locked with Jamie, as if daring him to disagree.

“Of course I’m yours, mo nighean donn, but what brought this on?”

Claire had been in the process of leaning in to trail a line of kisses down his neck when he spoke, and she halted on her second kiss to draw back with a huff.

Clearly bothered, she looked almost dangerous as she said in a low voice, “Geneva. She wants you.”

“What?” it was almost a laugh as Jamie reacted to her claim.

Claire took a tiny step back so she could properly meet his eyes, and then said, very resolutely, “She does, Jamie. I touched her, I know. I could tell even before I felt it that she wanted you.”

Jamie’s mouth fell open at this revelation. He knew better than to protest, and upon hearing her confirmation, he realized that Geneva had been rather forward lately, but that didn’t mean she…

Looking at Claire’s heated expression, it clearly did. His lass was inflamed. Her cheeks were flushed, pupils dilated, and her jaw clenched tightly.

Jamie couldn’t help it as a smirk began to turn up the corner of his lips and a warm feeling of something akin to satisfaction spread in his chest.

“So ye’re tellin’ me… that whole scene outside, and then you all but attackin’ me in here… was because ye were jealous?”

“Well,” Claire shifted on her feet slightly, for the first time in several minutes breaking free from her severe look, “yes. You’re mine, and she—”

“Aye, I’m yers, mo ghraidh, no doubt about it,” he confirmed without hesitation, making sure she knew it was the absolute truth of his heart, “jes’ as ye’re mine.”

He couldn’t help but smile though as the pieces all fell into place. She’d seen him from across the room and gotten jealous, so she had marched on over to stake her claim on him before demonstrating her power by stealing him away, only to kiss the living daylights out of him. It all made sense now. Her behavior wasn’t random. It was possessive.

“You’re enjoying this!” Claire exclaimed, looking up at him with an open mouth. She was trying to sound appalled, but he could see the smile she was trying to smother turning up the corners of her lips.

The laughter bubbled up from his chest, and he grabbed her around the waist to pull her against him as he chuckled. “Ye’re too much, mo nighean donn. And it only makes me love ye more and more.”

Despite herself, she started laughing too, grabbing his shoulders as he hauled her against him.

“I suppose it was rather… petty,” she admitted, biting her lip.

“Mmmm, the way ye kissed me, though. I think I wish more lassies would take a fancy to me jes’ to get that reaction from ye again…”

She smacked him lightly on the chest, but she was still smiling as he leaned down to peck her on the lips.

“You don’t need silly girls to want you in order to get me to kiss you like that…” Claire teased, standing on her tiptoes so she could hover her lips over his.

“Oh, is that so? What must I do, then?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she breathed.

And then her lips were on his again, and she showed him exactly how little he had to do.

Jamie lost another solid twenty minutes of work time due to the makeout session with Claire that ended up with him pressed against his desk and Claire doing her darndest to make him lose every ounce of self control he’d ever possessed. He’d never been more grateful in his life that his office window had blinds and a locking door.

As nice as it was to have the very enjoyable attentions of his love, he had wasted so much of the day away already, and there was work to be done. He reluctantly detached his faerie, pulling her away by the waist while she murmured a protest.

Jamie swiped a thumb over her puffy lips as she pouted at him, resisting the urge to laugh.

How he loved her with his whole heart.

“Sorry, Sassenach, I really hafta finish up some work before everyone leaves for the day, and at this rate, I willna ever be able to stop kissin’ ye.”

She caught his fingers in a quick kiss before she frowned. “I don’t understand why all of you are so caught up with ‘work’,” she commented with distaste.

“I’m beginnin’ to agree wi’ ye, Sassenach,” Jamie snorted. The temptation to throw everything out the window and pay attention to absolutely nothing save this alluring creature in front of him was nearly enough to drive him mad. But Jamie loved his work, cared about his business, and he had to have some self control— what few scraps remained.

“Why dinna ye look through some of my books on the shelves while I work? I ken ye canna read the words, but there are some verra beautiful illustrations— uh, pictures, drawings— in some of them.”

Jamie cursed himself for not bringing adequate entertainment for her. Although, beyond Adso, the space heater, and the garden— well, and him, of course— Jamie wasn’t sure what exactly entertained Claire.

She agreed with only a brief pout, and Jamie could finally let out the breath he’d been holding when she was safely across the room, browsing the bookshelf. Feeling his heart rate finally descend (was it safe for it to be that elevated for that long?) he settled down in front of his computer.

He managed to get a good chunk of work done while Claire busied herself with flipping through nearly every book he owned. It turned out that it was an excellent idea, as she seemed well entertained. Every once in a while, Jamie would hear a gasp and have to look up to see the adorable expression of wonder on Claire’s face as she discovered another illustration. It was mainly the kids books, he noticed, that really wowed her. Likely because she could follow the story based on the pictures, and she grew absorbed. Before long, there was a semi-circle of opened books surrounding her on the floor. It warmed him to notice that she never closed them— always leaving them open when she found an illustration she particularly liked, as if she wanted to go back and see it again.

Despite her fascination and apparent entertainment, it was what felt like a short time later when Jamie was interrupted from deep concentration by a hand sliding up his arm to rest on his shoulder.

“Claire, what are ye—?” he started, but was cut off when both of her hands smoothed over his shoulders.

“You’re so tense,” came her smooth voice startlingly close to his ear.

“Aye,” he said, rolling his shoulders, “I tend tae carry my stress there when I’m workin.”

“I don’t want you to be tense.” Her breath tickled his ear, and a shiver rolled down his spine. Warm hands began kneading into his shoulders, digging into the soreness of the muscles. Her touch was the perfect mix of gentle and strong, pulling the tension from his body. He couldn’t help the sigh that fell from his lips.

Her hands didn’t let up their work, but she sometimes paused to smooth over his shoulders in broad strokes. Without meaning to, his hands fell away from the keyboard and his head tilted back. His eyes were closed in relaxation… when had he closed his eyes?

He realized distantly that Claire was murmuring soothing words above him.

“Does that feel good? Let out the tension, darling. There. I’ve got you.”

She hit a particularly tense knot, but the magic of her fingers had it loosening after only a second.

“Oh Lord,” he breathed, feeling like he was in a trance. “Ye’re so good at this. I—”

His eyes suddenly popped open and he bolted up in his chair, “Christ, lass. Ye’re doin’ yer best tae distract me from my work, are ye no’?”

“Shhh, don’t worry about it, just relax, my love,” she murmured into his ear, pressing down on his shoulders to get him to sit back in his chair again.

He was onto her game now, though, and reached up to grab her hand and still her.

“I have tae work, lass.”

“I’m not stopping you,” she replied.

The hand he hadn’t seized stroked over his shoulder. Feeling unequipped to the task of arguing with her, Jamie simply let go and brought his hands back to the keyboard.

Alright, Fraser. This is a simple game. If you stop giving her attention, she’ll get bored and leave ye be.

He focused all this attention on the computer screen, ignoring her as she continued her ministrations. It wasn’t the best job, but he managed to type out a few sentences before suddenly there were soft lips tracing the shell of his ear.

Another shiver ran down his spine, and there was a slight tug of teeth on his earlobe before she kissed it again, soothing the spot with a flutter of breath.

“Sassenach,” he said in a warning tone.

“What? I’m not stopping you,” she replied innocently before stooping lower to brush her lips— just barely— down his throat.

“Ye ken verra well that ye are,” he sighed, the sound turning from frustration to pleasure as she hit a particular spot that made his stomach twist.

Her fingers were tracing just barely under his shirt, tucking themselves inside the collar. She didn’t seem to be listening, or maybe it was just that she didn’t care, because she refused to respond to the protestation. Instead, she breathed out, “Do you know you have beautiful collarbones?”

“I didna ken, and I thank ye for the observation. May I return to my work now?” Jamie asked, trying to keep the pleading from his tone.

She hummed to herself, “I’m not standing in your way.”

Okay. So maybe he wasn’t quite strong enough to ignore it. And she was in no mood to free him from her clutches on her own accord.

Swivelling so abruptly in his chair that Claire nearly fell over backward in surprise, he faced her. He took her hands in his and brushed his thumbs over the back of her knuckles.

“Listen, lass. There’s no way I’ll get anythin’ done while ye’re toyin’ wi’ me, and I still have much to do. So let me make ye a deal. Gi’ me one hour wi’out interruptions, and I’ll… well…” Jamie found himself at a loss for bargaining chips. Ifrinn. The lass had him so well in the palm of her hand that he already gave her whatever she wanted. He decided to flip it and open it up to her. “What do ye want? In return?”

Her eyes flashed with excitement and a twinkle of mischief. Jamie braced himself for some devious declaration or demand for a game that would prove tortuous for his self control, but instead of anything like that, Claire surprised him by smugly requesting, “I want one hour in front of the heater.”

Jamie nearly laughed out loud. He’d come to realize that the lass thought that the space heater was a precious, exhaustible commodity, not some piece of junk hooked up to electricity. He hadn’t wanted to disavow her of that notion for fear that she’d spend every waking second in front of it instead of with him, and it seemed now it was going to play the situation to his advantage.

“I think I may be able tae make that happen,” he said slowly, keeping his cards close to his chest.

“With you!” she added quickly, narrowing her eyes, “for the full hour.”

“Do we have a deal then?” he asked, putting on his best business face.

“We have a deal,” Claire nodded primly.

Rather than a handshake, Jamie opted for a quick peck of lips. As Claire drew away and made to head back toward the bookshelf on the opposite corner of the room, she looked like a cat that got the cream.

Better luck next time, lass. If you wanna bargain, better come knowing what’s of value.

Feeling smug in his own right, Jamie returned to his work. This time, it wasn’t his girlfriend’s hands on him distracting his mind. Rather, it was the unshakable feeling of fondness that filled his stomach and warmed him to his toes.

***

“Hey, Jamie?” Claire asked, breaking the silence about 45 minutes into the agreed hour.

“What is it, a leannan?”

He tore his gaze from his computer to find Claire looking up at him from where she sat on the floor at the foot of the bookshelf. Her arms were wrapped around her middle, and she looked so wee curled up in the corner, shooting him a troubled gaze with eyes that were round as a doe’s.

“I’m cold.”

Brows furrowing, he abandoned his work— in the middle of a sentence no less— and went to her. She was shivering, despite it being rather balmy in his office.

His wee faerie, typical.

“Here, lass.” Jamie stripped off his suit jacket to wrap around her shoulders. She took it gratefully, her hands brushing Jamie’s at the edges. That bit of contact jolted through him, shattering any notions of him returning to his work straight away, and he fell to his knees beside her so he could wrap her in a hug.

She melted instantly into his arms, laying her head on his shoulder. He smoothed his hands up and down her back, and it was at that moment that he felt her shivering.

“Christ, lass, ye really are cold,” he burst out in concern.

“It’s cold,” she repeated, shifting herself within his arms to burrow closer.

“It’s no’ this cold,” he breathed.

She didn’t say anything, just trembled against him. She withdrew her hands from around his middle and instead tucked them against his chest between where their bodies were pressed together.

Jamie bit his bottom lip and repositioned himself to get comfortable. It seemed he was in for a longer break from his work than expected. His heart was beginning to beat faster as anxiety for his love rose in his chest.

“This is more than temperature, a ghraidh,” he said softly.

She shook her head where it laid on his shoulder but made no move to raise it and look at him.

“Ye were fine all mornin’,” he noted quietly as his brain began working in earnest.

“I’m fine now,” Claire insisted, her voice muffled from where her mouth pressed against Jamie’s shoulder.

“I dinna think ye are,” Jamie finally said out loud, admitting the fear that had been rattling around inside of him for days now. He’d watched the little things add up, even worried over them, but every time he managed to convince himself it was nothing. Even just this morning he’d thought perhaps everything was in his head. Now, however, it was just another item to add to the growing list that was too long to be coincidence.

“I told you, Jamie. It’s nothing,” Claire said, her voice gaining an edge to it. “I can feel you worrying.”

Jamie swallowed thickly. A rush of guilt washed over him, and he wondered whether she could feel that too. Gah! It was impossible not to feel things, especially when it came to her. It was terrifying to know she could read them, and that what he was feeling could make things worse for her.

“This isna nothin’ Sassenach, but I dinna ken—”

Claire sat up abruptly, pushing herself away from him with two hands planted firmly on his chest until she had gained her distance. Irritation was rising in her as warm spots on her cheeks, and her eyes flashed a darker shade of gold.

“Don’t tell me about me like you know better than I do,” she said, brows drawing together in frustration.

“I’m no’, I just—”

Jamie reached for her, but she batted his hands away.

“I’m telling you, it’s nothing. If you were tired of trying to warm me up, you could have just said something.”

She was moving backward now, attempting to put more distance between them, but Jamie reached out to grasp her upper arm, holding her still. Her head whipped toward him, eyes hard and ready to lash out, but Jamie spoke before she could.

“Please, dinna go,” was all he could think to say.

It wasn’t like she was actually going to storm out of his office— at least he hoped not— but it still hurt for her to tear herself away like that. He didn’t want to fight.

Something— perhaps it was his pleading tone, the look on his face, or maybe she could actually feel his distress— made her freeze and give him her attention.

“I’m sorry if I made ye feel like ye werena my priority, mo ghraidh, because ye are. Always. I would abandon work entirely jes’ tae hold ye in my arms, for however long ye wanted. I’m jes’ worried, lass, I dinna mean to presume I ken more than you do about yer own body. I’m sorry. Please, lass, come here to me?”

Claire’s eyes filled with tears. She remained stock still, her eyes locked with Jamie’s. There was a long moment where he watched the moisture gather in her eyes and the gears turn in her head as she fought within herself, and then she broke the stillness. She did come to him then, scrambling up into his lap and throwing her arms around him. A wet face pressed into the crook of his neck, and Jamie quickly brought his arms up to hold her, pressing her face into him and feeling relief course through him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t know why I lashed out at you, Jamie. I didn’t mean that.”

“Hush, hush, it’s okay, a leannan,” Jamie soothed, carding his fingers through her curls and rocking her back and forth. “Ye’ve had a long day. Ye’ve felt yer share of heartache, met so many new people and seen so many new things, and ye’re tired. Why dinna we head home now, aye?”

She drew back, blinking tears away from her eyelashes. “Maybe just in a moment?”

“Of course, Sassenach.” Jamie didn’t need to be an empath to know that she needed a second to gather herself together before she could face the task of exiting the building and encountering whatever people went along with that.

“Hey, I love you,” Jamie added softly, petting her hair, pulling it back away from her neck over and over. He stretched his thumb so he could smooth over the long muscle of her neck, feeling the soft skin and wishing he were at an angle that he could press a kiss there.

“I love you, too,” came her quiet response.

***

a/n: Important Update:

Hey friends! So I may be going off the grid a bit later in June, not 100% sure yet. There probably will end up being a brief hiatus for this story, and I wish I could tell you exactly what it will look like, but I don't know yet. I will keep you posted here. Thank you so much for your flexibility and investment in the story, and I'll do my best not to leave you at cliffhangers. While I still have time left, be prepared that updates may get a bit more frequent.

I don’t remember if I’ve announced it on here yet, but I also want to officially say that an Arc III is in the works! I’ve already started writing a bit on it because I’m so excited about it. So don’t worry, even if there is a brief hiatus, there is lots of story left. Thank you for sticking with me!!!

#wooohooo finally managed to write it!!!#all that was fair #claire x jamie #outlander fanfiction #update #fae claire

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nonbinary-kaz · 3 years ago

Text

Fuckt Up Lil Bros Intro:

a fic that won't get finished so I'm putting it here

When Wylan was eight, his father had finally gotten fed up with him, and had packed Wylan and his mother into a car and taken them to see a specialist. His mother had argued the whole way there, saying Wylan would learn to read when he felt like it, that the strange outbursts would end eventually. After all, Wylan was a child! Children were unpredictable, at best, she’d said. Stubborn. His father had growled something under his breath, along the lines of Wylan being less stubborn and more of a problem.

Then they had walked away from the specialist hours later, and his father berated his mother, throwing all those words she’d said back in her face. Wylan didn’t quite understand, especially not when his father had slammed the car door shut and called Wylan something that Wylan wouldn’t realise until much later was a disgusting, horrible word. His mother had already known, and she had hissed at him to not say such things.

“He’s our son,” she’d said.

“Not mine,” his father had said. “Not if he’s like this. My genes wouldn’t pass this on.”

“Jan Van Eck,” she snapped.

“Your father was always strange,” he said. “Maybe this is from him.”

“I don’t care who this came from,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. He’s still your son. None of this matters.”

“How can this not matter?” he demanded. “He can’t read, Marya. He’s socially inept, and he will evidently remain so for the rest of his life. He’s not normal. He’s not right.”

And she had murmured something lowly and dangerously, something Wylan couldn’t hear from the back. It had shut his father up, though.

Wylan was both too young to understand and too old not to understand words like “dyslexia” and “autism” and “severe anxiety” and whatnot. Looking back on it, it didn’t matter if he knew what it was or not. All that had mattered was the noticeable change in his father’s behaviour to him.

That had also been when all the therapies started. Physical, to get him over how awkward his body was. Occupational, to stop him from getting upset about “minor things.” Speech, in hopes that it would help the reading. Tutoring, because that should have helped the reading. Drugs, to stop him from being timid all of the time.

He hadn’t needed most of those; the most use they gave was to keep his father hoping that he could someday “get better” until they ultimately proved ineffective to his standards. Granted, the medications would continue to help throughout his life, just not the way Jan Van Eck had thought they would.

If Wylan had to pinpoint where his life had gone to hell, it would be that moment he stepped in the car to go to that specialist.

Though, if he had to pick a second point, it would be months later, when his mother had died. He didn’t get to go to the funeral. That was when things had gotten worse from his father, with his mother no longer around to mitigate, to stick up for Wylan. His father started hiding him then, keeping his contact with the world as minimal as possible. He had his therapies, he had his tutoring, he had whatever nannies his father hired, and he had the occasional parties he couldn’t get away from.

He hated those parties. They were loud, and everyone always bothered him, and the food was gross, and his father always yelled at him later for acting like a fool and disgracing the Van Eck name.

The third hellish point in his life, though, was the moment that “Van Eck” ceased to have meaning at the end of Wylan’s name. He could no longer disgrace the name, if the name no longer signified his ties to Jan Van Eck.

Perhaps he should have been happy. He no longer had those parties, no longer had those therapies and tutors, no longer had his raging father. He was free of it all.

But he wasn’t happy. Mostly, he was just… scared.

Wylan hadn’t even known he had second cousins twice-removed until the day he’d been disowned. Maybe that would have been obvious to most people, but his father had cut ties with most of his family. Wylan was certain the only people Jan Van Eck was legally related to anymore was Alys, his new (and insanely young) wife, and their future child (the reason Wylan was finally let loose).

After a long taxi ride, oh-so graciously paid for by his father thanks to Alys’s bleeding heart, Wylan had enough time to fully terrify himself with catastrophic thoughts of what these “cousins” would be like. Jordan Rietveld and Kasimir Brekker could possibly be worse than his father. Hell, the name of the second one sounded intimidating enough.

Wylan spent a short while wondering why they had separate names if they were full-blooded brothers. He’d asked, but at that point, his father had stopped bothering with him altogether, and had walked away halfway through Wylan’s question.

The cab driver said something, but Wylan had lost himself so deep in thought that he couldn’t catch what the man had said.

“Sorry?”

“Five minutes,” the cab driver grunted.

“Oh. Thank you.”

And Wylan sank into his seat, panic beginning to eat him alive.

Wylan had only three bags with him. Two were packed with the essentials: clothes. Just clothes. Well, and the remnants of this month’s medications. But other than that, it was his sweaters and shirts and jeans and underwear and socks and two pairs of shoes. And that was all. The other case had been filled with things Wylan had snuck with him. Paints and easels and canvases and brushes and pens and charcoals and pencils and his flute. He had no clue if his father would’ve let him take them, so he’d hid them in the suitcase and bolted before his father could inspect anything. Perhaps that had been pointless—Jan Van Eck had stopped looking at him the moment he’d announced Wylan would be disowned.

Two of those three suitcases were dropped unceremoniously on the side of the curb by the driver. Wylan had fortunately grabbed the bag filled with his supplies, so nothing broke when the bags thudded to the grass.

“Thank you,” Wylan said to the driver. “I’d tip if I could.”

The driver just shrugged. “Whatever, kid.”

Then he disappeared back into his cab and drove away. Wylan watched as the taxi turned the corner and disappeared, suddenly feeling his heart thud louder and faster than ever before. Everything felt both too real and too unreal at the same time.

“No panic attacks before noon,” he told himself quietly.

“Wylan?”

Wylan nearly jumped out of his skin, and his heart likewise nearly flew out of his chest. If pain was painless, that would be the feeling of his heartrate returning to the pace it had previously set before as Wylan tried to regain his breath.

He turned towards the voice, suddenly filled with so much anxiety that his stomach hurt.

Two people were just a short stretch down the sidewalk, slowly making their way over.

“Wylan Van Eck?” one of them asked, clearly the owner of the voice that had previously called for him.

“Yes,” Wylan said. He discreetly wiped his palms against his pants, trying to get the sweat off of them. “Hi. Um. Jordan and Kasimir?”

The speaker began laughing, and Wylan suddenly noticed his face. It was painted in large scars and marks, a patchwork masterpiece of pristine porcelain and burnt blemishes. They had no distinct pattern, and clearly did not hurt the man, as he smiled widely through them. Wylan did also note that the half-eyebrow missing did add a bit of intrigue to his face, but otherwise… well, Wylan averted his eyes. He found staring at people’s faces to be unbearably uncomfortable in the first place, but this just made it worse. He knew he shouldn’t look at all, really. Didn’t people always find that rude? But according to his father, Wylan not looking people in the eye was rude, too…

“It’s Kaz,” said the second person, his voice harsher than rock grating rock.

He had no scars on his face—which seemed young and fresh, making him seem hardly older than Wylan, despite the hardened lines of his permanent scowl. Either that, or he already despised Wylan. Neither seemed favourable. Perhaps his taxi-ride fears weren’t totally unfounded.

But what stood out more to Wylan was the cane he leant heavily upon.

Jesus Christ, Wylan thought to himself. No wonder Jan Van Eck had never mentioned being related to them before. If he had hated Wylan…

That was rude to think that, though. He shouldn’t think of how his father thought of things. His father’s view of the world was skewed. At best.

“If you call him Kasimir,” the first guy said, “he might kill you.”

Wylan glanced to the kid—Kaz—and then immediately dropped the gaze to the ground. The scowl had gotten deeper. Kaz did indeed look murderous.

“I’m Jordie,” said the first guy, his smile balancing Kaz’s serial killer glower. He stuck out his hand to Wylan. “Jordie Rietveld.”

“Wylan Van Eck,” Wylan said, shaking the preferred hand.

“We know,” said Kaz. He did not offer his hand for Wylan to shake. Wylan noted the dark leather gloves that covered his hands. Interesting, especially when balanced with Kaz’s otherwise dark and grim attire.

Jordie, on the other hand, wore a white t-shirt and faded jeans, looking like a completely normal person. And the lack of near loathing on his face made him preferrable to Wylan. Even if Kaz wanted to kill him, perhaps Jordie wouldn’t hate him.

Not until he learned how much of a fuck-up Wylan was, anyway.

“So, you’re our cousin,” Jordie said conversationally. His eyes searched Wylan’s face, perhaps trying to find the similarities there.

“Not that we knew it,” Kaz said, his rasping voice filled with an unamused tone. Everything about Kaz screamed “unamused,” really.

Jordie coughed loudly. Kaz glanced over to him, something temporarily erasing the annoyance on his face. But then Jordie send Kaz a meaningful look of some sort, and the look returned to Kaz.

“Sorry,” Jordie said.

“No, it’s okay,” Wylan said quickly. “I didn’t know either.”

“Hm,” Kaz said.

“Anyway,” Jordie said, raising his voice somewhat. It reminded Wylan somewhat of whenever Wylan dared speak in his father’s presence at one of those parties, when his father would speak right over him to draw attention away from Wylan. Hiding his screwed-up son. But Jordie didn’t seem… well, Wylan couldn’t say that for sure. He had just met the man. But he did seem to only be doing it for Wylan’s sake, to keep Kaz’s irritation at bay. Again, Wylan couldn’t tell for sure, though. Only time would tell, he supposed. “I suppose… welcome.”

“Thanks,” Wylan said.

“Shouldn’t ‘welcome’ wait until he has actually seen the apartment?” Kaz asked dryly.

“Right,” Jordie said, frowning and blinking. “Right, yeah, that would…”

He trailed off, staring somewhere off in the distance. Then he shook his head, looking back to Wylan.

“Would you like to come inside?” he asked.

“Sure,” Wylan said, because what the hell else was he supposed to say? Someone different could have perhaps found something far more eloquent to say, but Wylan was not someone different. He was unfortunately just Wylan.

“Great,” Jordie said, smiling once more.

He bent down and grabbed one of Wylan’s clothes bags before Wylan could take them himself. Wylan shouldered his supply bag, ready to grab the last bag, but Kaz had already taken it. Guilt rumbled through Wylan’s chest. They shouldn’t help him. They’d already burdened themselves with taking him in; they shouldn’t add more to that. But Jordie had already begun walking away, towards the apartment complex Wylan now bothered to look at. Kaz was directly behind him, limping even worse than before. Wylan’s guilt likewise compacted.

The apartment complex looked… to be fair to the place, it wasn’t the worst place Wylan had seen. He’d seen way worse on his drive over here. But it was rather bad. The white paint had lost most of its life, living a now grim existence as faded yellow ivory. The windows and their sills looked old. That was the most Wylan could say about them. And the fire escapes everywhere looked rusty and rickety. Wylan wouldn’t trust those with his life. He hoped he’d never have to.

Jordie unlocked a side door to the place, then pushed through. Kaz followed, hands too busy with bag and cane to hold it open for Wylan, who had to rush to make sure he wasn’t locked out.

Inside looked about as dreary as out—old, matted carpet covered the stairs that lead to all of the floors, and decaying plant matter and dirt tracks and bug remnants scattered across the tile landing. The popcorn walls had crumbling and faded paint, much like the outer walls.

“Oh, boy,” Jordie said up front. “Here we go.”

Then he mounted the first stair with a sigh. Wylan frowned, wondering what that was about.

He figured it out after the first flight.

“Inhaler,” Kaz said, almost bored, as Jordie wheezed and coughed, leaning against the wall.

Jordie nodded, shouldering Wylan’s bag so he could root around his pockets. He pulled out a white and blue inhaler, popping the cap off as he began to shake it.

“I can take my bag back,” Wylan said, now feeling another layer of guilt. “You don’t have to carry it.”

Holding his breath as he removed the inhaler nozzle from his lips, Jordie shook his head. Kaz just scowled over his shoulder at Wylan, his cane held horizontally in the same hand that held Wylan’s bag as the other hand clung to the railing.

All of this burden they placed on themselves, only for them to sooner or later realise that they wasted it when he showed them just how useless he was.

They had to go quite slowly after that, but they eventually made it to the correct floor. The Rietveld apartment (Wylan assumed it was under the Rietveld name, anyway; Jordie was the older of the two, and Wylan was now dead certain Kaz was near his age) was the first door off the staircase. Convenient, in a small way. Not convenient that the place had no elevators, but Wylan wasn’t about to ask why they lived here and not a more accessible place. There was a reason why people lived in a place like this: money (or the lack thereof).

“Home, sweet home,” Jordie said, unlocking the door to the apartment.

Wylan’s first thought was: It’s bare.

His second thought was: It’s small.

The living space held a crackling old leather sofa, a brown corduroy reclining chair, a coffee table scattered with dents and mail, and flatscreen TV. The TV was the only thing that looked remotely new; Wylan suspected the rest were either hand-me-downs or thrifted.

Beyond that lay a kitchen, removed from the living room by only an island bar. It had space for a refrigerator, oven and stove, sink, and a small stretch of countertop that was surrounded by cupboards and drawers. If all three of them stood in that room, Wylan figured, it would become quite crowded.

He couldn’t see the rest of the place, but a hall led away from beside the kitchen. That likely held the bedrooms and bathroom, and whatever else could possibly be in this small place.

Jordie dropped Wylan’s bag on the sofa. Kaz set the other beside it, continuing to walk until he disappeared down the hall.

“Don’t mind him,” Jordie said, not once losing his cheer. “He’s always a grump.”

“Oh,” Wylan said, unsure what else to say.

“Anyway, this is it,” Jordie said. He began gesturing around the place. “Living room, kitchen… down the hall’s going to be your bedroom on the left. Me and Kaz’ll sleep together in the other one. Bathroom is last door on the left. Um… yeah. That’s about it.” He turned to Wylan, smiling ruefully. “Yeah. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“It’s… nice,” Wylan supplied.

Jordie laughed. “You’re funny. No, it’s okay. You don’t have to lie. This place is a shithole.”

Wylan wouldn’t have put it like that, but yes. He’d seen the hole in that one cupboard, the chunk missing from the faux marble island counter, the dents in the wall, the crack in that corner of the ceiling…

“It’s not so bad,” Wylan said, generously.

“It’s cheap,” Jordie said, placing his hands on his hips and surveying the ceiling. Oh. Another crack. “That’s what it is.”

“Oh.”

“So,” Jordie said, looking down at Wylan. “Want to see your new room?”

Wylan shrugged. “Sure.”

This time, he managed to grab both cases of clothes before Jordie could reach them. Wylan’s arms felt like they were being torn off, but at least Jordie wasn’t burdening himself for Wylan. Plus, the short hall was nothing like that staircase.

Jordie led him through the hall, pushing open a door with a hole in a conspicuously shoulder-height place. Wylan eyed that warily until the door had swung fully open.

If the rest of the apartment was barren and small, then this was… Wylan didn’t even know the words.

The walls were popcorn white—as with the rest of the place—but they were studded with holes of previous tenants nails and tacks. Nothing lay on the walls currently other than those holes. There was a bed pressed against the back right corner, taking up most of the space. Half of the bed rested below the window (which seemed to lead to this apartment’s fire escape). Another large portion of the space was taken up by a dresser and desk combination. A small stool went along with it, tucked beneath the desk portion. And in the far corner across from the bed, a shallow cut-out of space denoted a closet.

“Used to be my room,” Jordie said. “But I’m in with Kaz now.”

“Oh…” Was there anything that wouldn’t make Wylan feel like guilt was piled so high atop him that he might sink beneath the ground?

“I assume you don’t have a toothbrush or shampoo or anything?” Jordie asked.

“Um, no,” Wylan said.

Jordie nodded. “Thought not. Well, you can use mine for the time being. Shampoo, anyway. Please don’t use my toothbrush.” Wylan managed a feeble smile as Jordie grinned broadly at him. “Use your finger, or something.”

“I do, um…” Wylan fumbled to find the right words. “I have some medications… I don’t know where—”

“Medicine cabinet’s behind the mirror,” Jordie said quickly. “You might have to rearrange a few things to get your stuff in there, though.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“For what?” Jordie asked.

“Moving your stuff around, I guess.”

Jordie frowned strangely at him. “I toldyou to do it. You don’t have to apologise. Hell, you haven’t even done it yet.”

Wylan pulled his lips into his mouth, biting them together. Jordie studied him for a short while longer, then shook his head to himself. The easy smile returned to Jordie’s face.

“I’ll leave you to unpack, then,” Jordie said. “Oh, and we’ll get you those supplies tomorrow. Or sometime soon.”

Then he disappeared out of the room. The door creaked as it swung most of the way shut behind him. For reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom, that summed up exactly how Wylan felt.

Wylan didn’t have hangers for his clothes, he discovered.

“Oh,” he said to himself. “Okay. Um.”

He refolded the sweater he had just pulled from one of the bags, then shoved it back inside. He zipped the bag back up. With any luck, the clothes wouldn’t get all wrinkled. He highly doubted that this place had an iron.

The dresser, he figured, would likely only need to house his underwear and socks. Those could all get tossed in the same drawer. Thus, he could appoint all the other drawers for his art supplies.

Organising those drawers gave him a good hour of clear headspace. He organised them one way before deciding he didn’t like that, then started over.

When he had nearly finished with the drawers, he stopped, staring at the oil paint tubes in his hand.

Why was he doing this? He had no right to. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t belong here, for any number of reasons. This wasn’t his place. He couldn’t be a burden on two other people—people who looked like they had enough burdens of their own to bear. Yet, here he was, unloading all of the life he could carry into drawers and closets that weren’t his.

Ungracefully, he dumped the paints back in his bag, followed by all of the other supplies he had just spent forever organising. The only thing he left in the drawers was his canvases. Those shouldn’t get tossed around so much. He only had five; he had to treat them with care. He could spare exactly none of them.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a loud cough came from somewhere outside of the door. It hit him, moments later, that he had dimly heard coughing in the background for a few minutes now. But that particular cough was unexpected. And quite horrible.

Wylan moved to the door, cracking it open. He saw a dark head of hair outside, bent over as another cough came. Jordie’s head raised, elbow pressed against his mouth as he coughed again.

“Wy—” a cough cut him off for a moment “—lan.”

He shook his head, then dropped his elbow to reach into his pocket and grabbed his inhaler. Wylan looked away as he primed and then used the inhaler. It was awkward, watching him… well. It was just an intrusion, wasn’t it? And rude. Nobody was supposed to stare at anyone different. Not Kaz’s cane and limp, not Jordie’s scars, not this.

“Sorry,” Jordie said a minute later.

Wylan heard the click of something closing, and he looked up to see Jordie capping the inhaler and ramming it in the pocket of his jeans. Jordie had an amiable smile on his face.

“Asthma,” he said, as if the coughing had been merely some bug he’d swatted away.

“I’m sorry,” Wylan said.

Jordie waved a dismissing hand. “Don’t. I get enough of that in my life.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, that’s new.” Jordie’s smile had broken wider, genuine and confused amusement splitting his face. “An apology. For an apology.”

Wylan tried another, “Sorry?”

“Are you kidding? I haven’t had an actual apology in this house in…” He trailed off with another disregarding wave, but Wylan got the point. Kaz didn’t seem to be the relenting and apologetic type. “Anyway. I came to ask…”

Wylan watched him, waiting for the question. Jordie simply frowned. He looked over to the wall for a second.

“What was I going to ask?” he murmured to himself. “Shit.”

Unsure of this new situation, Wylan felt his fingers fumble for the fabric of his shirt’s hem. Jordie kept frowning at the wall, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he concentrated.

“Jordie?” Wylan asked after what seemed like too long.

Jordie’s head snapped back to Wylan, frown deeper for a split second. Then it erased, reverting to an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I can’t remember what I was going to ask.”

Wylan knew that feeling all too well, but something about the way Jordie had zoned out bothered him.

Suddenly, Jordie snapped loudly, his index finger pointing to Wylan. Startled, Wylan drew back somewhat.

“Dinner,” Jordie said, amusement lighting his face once more. “Dinner. I was going to ask about dinner.”

Still uncertain, Wylan merely stared at Jordie.

“What do you like to eat?” Jordie asked. Before Wylan could even begin to think how to answer that, Jordie said, “We don’t do fancy rich people stuff, though. We’re cheap.”

“Oh. I didn’t… I mean, I’m not… you don’t have to worry about that,” Wylan said, words stumbling ungracefully. “You can just… make whatever you want, I guess.”

“Okay, I’ve heard that before, and that never goes over well,” Jordie said. “Nina’s the only person that has ever worked for.”

Wylan did not know who Nina was, but he still felt guilt gnawing at him. He really did not want to make Jordie change whatever meal he had planned.

“Seriously, it’s okay,” Jordie said. “Just tell me so that you don’t starve and then I don’t have the police investigating me.”

Wylan blinked.

“That was a joke,” Jordie said. He waited a second longer, expecting Wylan’s laughter. Wylan managed a grimaced smile. “Okay. No jokes. Um. Fine. Look. This is what we eat on a regular basis. Chinese takeout. Pizza. Uh. Boxed noodles. Frozen vegetables. Any easily-heated meal. Any of that repulsive to you?”

Truth be told, Wylan wasn’t entirely sure. He’d never had boxed noodles before. Or easily-heated meals. He knew he didn’t like most vegetables—they all reeked or had unpleasant textures (broccoli being the worst offender of all)—but maybe frozen made them different?

“No,” Wylan said. Even he could tell he sounded unconvincing.

“Fine,” Jordie said. “We’ll start with pizza. Nobody hates pizza.” He turned and walked away then, grumbling under his breath, “Not even Kaz.”

Wylan slowly closed the door, utterly confused by that entire encounter.

(and this is all I have written lmao sorryyyyyy)

#lets hope this all fits in one post lmao #its 4k so who knows lmao #wylan van eck #kaz brekker #jordie rietveld #jan van eck #marya van eck #six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone #fuckt up lil bros au #if i ever write more i'll reblog but that likely wont happenlmao

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